A Husband of Duty
by KiahTrickster
Summary: Set in late season one, just an idea for if the Captain had been married; say with a little push. But it is not all smooth sailing as he learns to be a husband as well as a soldier.
1. Chapter 1

Set near the end of the first season.

I like Treville's character and while later seasons are fitting I like to write a longer life for him. Please let me know what you think. I am no historian I just thought this might be an interesting plot line.

No copyright infringement intended, all characters from the show belong to the producers and writers; I write for fun

 **A Husband of Duty**

He followed orders, even when he knew them to be more tedious than they were worth. The King wished to visit a local magistrate's court and observe his business. The King could be difficult at times and even foolish but his duty was not judge; only to keep his majesty alive and well.

Treville watched as matters were discussed and judged, punishment meted out. His eyes roved those who stood waiting to be heard and others listening to the matters. Athos and D'Artagnan stood nearby, both were also on guard; in a place like this there were many avenues to watch.

One face drew his, a young woman dragged forward by a man; he supposed to be her father. The woman looked terrified and the way the man shoved at her disgusted him. No matter what she had done there was no cause to embarrass her further and publicly.

As he listened his anger grew, the man had no proof and no one in this court seemed to care; and he asked a steep price of the girl. The man viewed his daughter as his property, and cheap at that; it was no way to treat a woman. Fifty lashes would break a woman, permanently mark her. Even the king who usually was entertained by proceedings looked cautious.

Treville took a step forward, struggling to maintain his calm, trying to figure out why he had this reaction. This was not the first time a father accused his daughter of improper conduct, it would not be the last; but he asked a severe punishment.

Already promised the man was angry at an investment lost but did he not remember the girl he raised. The woman with pretty blue eyes now full of tears. He heard the Queen whispering a protest, demanding the King intervene. He wasn't sure what he expected but the King stepped past him, taking command in two steps and making a declaration that made his head spin. "I propose a solution. Give the woman to my Musketeer Captain as a bride, let him settle the matter of her propriety and deal with it within his own house."

Of all the lines, the boundaries of propriety the King crossed often without thought this was the farthest he had gone. Treville had never married, the life of a career soldier was not a fair one for a wife, a wife waiting to hear whether her husband was alive or not. And yet now he was approaching retirement, likely closer in age to the woman's father than her. He did not need a wife, and yet it was not worth going against the King on the matter.

"Sire the matter of conduct cannot be proven here, monetary compensation does not replace the loss of honor. If you wish your Captain to take her as wife then he will take her punishment." The magistrate countered, nodding to the father; a fair court this was.

"Fine. Tomorrow, we will return, today they will marry to avoid any misconduct." The King dismissed the issue, a quick gesture of his hand had the father stepping back; the woman crumbled to the floor.

He allowed his disgust to show as he strode forward to lift her up, he was to marry her and he didn't even know her name but perhaps she would be better off with him. She was of noble birth or her father would not be at court over her conduct, marrying a soldier was a harsh step down in the world; though perhaps more than this court would have allowed her had the King not interfered.

She was a delicate little thing from the feel of her, however carrying her made it somewhat more difficult to watch over the King. He trusted his musketeers but glared at the smirks he saw, this was going to spread through the garrison faster than fire.

On the way back to the palace the King simply indicated a church, the carriages stopped and he waited for Athos to dismount, handing the woman down to him before dismounting himself. A servant was dispatched for rings and numbly he handed over the coin. The King and Queen strode into the church and in a few moments Treville was a married man who didn't quite know what to do.

When the royal family was safely back in the palace he turned his horse for the garrison, his musketeers smirking as the rode alongside him, stealing glances at the woman holding onto his waist. The yard became oddly quiet as he held his reigns steady to halt the horse.

Again he allowed Athos to help her dismount, her name was Magdalene at least he knew that much now; but little more. Dismounting after her Treville handed off the reigns to the waiting stable hand, generally he preferred to see to his own mount but today he had other things.

Leading her up the stairs he ignored the looks from musketeers and cadets, he shut the door to his office and quarters. He hated the way she cowered, flinched away when ever he was close. It was early evening and he had work yet to do, he doubted he would be allowed to go to the magistrate's court in peace tomorrow; it would likely be a spectacle the King would enjoy.

He didn't much care what she had or hadn't done, in many cases noble men used these laws as excuses anyway. Men allowed to live as they pleased and their women punished harshly for the slightest infractions. Either way he would enjoy wiping the smug look off that vile man's face, and it was a simple matter to deal with.

"You do not need to be afraid of me, I do not hurt women." He had been a soldier a long time and in all the things he had done he had never treated women or children with malice; he would not begin now.

"Why did you do it?" The first words she had spoken directly to him; the second phrase he had heard her say.

"It was the King's choice." He sat behind his desk, as she realized he wasn't going to control her she was beginning to look around. "I understand you were promised."

"My father arranged the marriage when I was a child." She murmured her eye swept the office, she peered to the small sectioned off quarters where he lived. "It was a business arrangement, part of the dowry was to secure their partnership."

Perhaps a lower level of nobility but all the same a much higher level than he should have ever wed. Blood did not necessarily mean honor as her own father had proved. It was hard to look at this young woman and think of her as his wife. What did this change?

He had not been a celibate man, but he had never had a woman he had been with fear him; he didn't want her to be afraid of him. Respect was one thing, but this woman had been pushed to the point of breaking; fear was almost conditioned in her.

He was an honorable man, and he considered himself to be fair but as a captain he always had to be firm; with her he couldn't. Perhaps she would feel free to explore her new home if he turned his attention to his work for a time.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for the reviews, I agree that Treville could have been used way more; I liked his character. But the first season was my favorite, I am building from that; this story will not follow the later seasons. However I am using statements and parts of his character/ past revealed in later seasons.

 **Chapter Two**

It was not her place to argue with her King and yet she feared he had created a vicious problem. Had he not seen the looks in that court? Those people wanted that woman to suffer, if not die and he had interfered, not by granting a pardon but by offering his musketeer captain as the victim for their rage.

She knew they would return this morning, those men would be harsh in their attempt to extract revenge. Fifty lashes was a harsh punishment but the captain would bear it much better than the woman it was intended for. However even that many could do serious damage depending on how they were delivered.

Punishment was not a spectacle she enjoyed as her husband did, whipping a man did not fix him. Whipping a man who had done nothing was not right in her mind and yet Treville would take it, just as he had taken a bride at his King's order.

The musketeers surrounded them as they entered the court again, their captain revealed nothing by his face. She stood at the King's side as the matter was called, and the punishment was ordered; the King was silent. Treville strode forward as did the man who would administer the punishment. It was a submissive form which would not sit well with a man like Treville; he had to stand for it and not fight back.

The crack of the whip was the only sound in the room, the musketeer did not make a sound as he took the punishment. She saw his eyes close as the last lash fell on his back, the deep cuts and welts on his back, old scars ripped open to bleed again. The man straightened, slipping the bindings of his wrists and turning to the musketeer holding his uniform and weapons.

The man could hardly raise his arms above his head to slip on his shirt, from the scars she knew he had been whipped before. But he did not take his uniform, instead he drew something from his pack, he shook it out and she knew what he was doing.

"Your daughter did not bring shame to your name; you did that in forcing her to marry a soldier. Her conduct was true and she will remain as my wife." The sheet marked with blood was tossed on the floor before the magistrate and the bleeding man reached for his sword belt. He turned to the king. "Are you ready to return to the palace Sire?"

She thought her husband seemed pale as he nodded his agreement. As they crossed to their carriage she saw the man falter as he prepared to mount; something was not right. The King saw it too and as the carriage began to roll forward she asked what he knew. "Treville has been whipped before hasn't he?"

"Yes, he was whipped and imprisoned for a time." His skin lost a few more shades of color. "For me. Without men like Treville, and the Cardinal I may never have taken the throne. He stood in front of me with more courage than any soldier I had known. My father trusted him, had Treville been ordered to guard him that day instead of me my father may have lived. "

"You have never told me this." It added a dimension to the captain who led the men that protected them.

"No, I suppose not. In ways Treville kept my father's memory alive for me, taught me things my father should have, spent his career defending him, watching over him; he helped me to remember him. I lost my father and my mother tried to overthrow me; I lost her too." She could see by his face he was retreating into those memories; his childhood had not been easy. Taking the throne as a boy, it was a blessing that he had loyal men to defend him, to protect him; and perhaps this was forcing him to recognize that. "I had very few constants in my life."

As they entered the gates she realized something was very wrong, and that Treville was no longer mounted, Athos spoke to the palace guards, Porthos and D'Artagnan rode close, and the captain slumped forward in front of Aramis.

"Sire, excuse the musketeers to tend their captain." The Cardinal addressed the King even as the musketeers eased back. She knew the man would be in excellent hands but still she feared that her request had a part in this man's injury.

...

Their captain was no small man, he cried out as Athos slid under his left side and Porthos the right. Carrying him up the stairs as Aramis fetched his tools, Athos swallowed hard in this life they lost many brothers but the captain was like a father to them. He knew this was not going to be pretty, he also knew it was not natural for a man to be fallen by a whip; not a man like Treville.

Treville's new wife looked terrified as they burst into his quarters, she shied away as the desk was cleared and their captain dropped onto it; the man cried out. He turned to the young woman. "Madam, it might be best for you to wait outside."

"My father did this." The woman held her ground now as Aramis tore the man's shirt off revealing injuries that were not right, he knew their captain had endured far worse before but wounds did not fester as his did if they were clean.

"That whip was coated in something, the wounds are deep but they didn't put him down like this."

"We'll find out." D'Artagnan and Porthos slipped from the room, Aramis turned to the Captain's quarters looking for a strong alcohol.

"How can I help?" The musketeer was already reaching for the bottle of alcohol again, stopping to glance at Maggie.

"Hold him down." Aramis ordered and Maggie reached for his hips as Athos used his body weight to hold his shoulders. Treville shook her off with ease, his body fighting the pain.

Dignity put aside she climbed onto the table and straddled the man; even under her full weight the man struggled. Both musketeers choked on words but their focus quickly became their captain. Treville's back ran with blood and alcohol, Aramis pulled the wounds apart to pour the liquid deep inside, the man struggled and cried out each time.

"Can't you help his suffering?" She demanded, the men exchanged a look and Athos nodded.

Aramis stepped back and Athos spoke calmly, calling Treville by name, when his captain struggled to look up at him a fist was thrust into his jaw; his head lolled back. She gasped as Athos simply rubbed his knuckles. "Was that really necessary?"

"It will give him some peace for a little while but he won't stay down." Athos smiled grimly.

"He never does, I've worked on him many times and while some men will stay under, pain always brings the Captain around." Aramis continued working on his back.

Athos held the man still as blood ran from the wounds, Aramis poured the alcohol over his back. He tried to steady him as Aramis spoke gently to him; trying to offer some form of comfort. "He isn't going to make this easy for us, it's like the wounds are burning him."

He shifted planning to use his weight to hold the captain steady but they both turned as the door opened. "Majesty, you should not be here."

"I am your queen, and I will go where I wish. Surely I am safe in the musketeer garrison." The room had become silent but for Treville's labored breathing. "Something is not right, let me help."

"It is not right majesty. Let us tend to him." Athos plead, this was highly improper and if the King knew he would be unhappy. Their queen had always been different then most royals but a royal she remained; she should not be tending their Captain as a nurse.

…

They were afraid to anger her, and it was something she used to her advantage, to get her way. She would tend the man who had protected her husband, who had been injured because of their interference. "I can assist you, tell me what is needed."

Neither man answered until the man on the table began to convulse again. Aramis turned back to him. "We need to cleanse and stitch his back, after that it will depend on him; he won't give up without a fight."

Silence fell for a time and she watched as the wounds were knit shut. The man bore many scars, she tried to think of him as a young man protecting a fatherless boy ascending to the throne. His body to a story, told the truth of who this man was, a soldier through and through.

The young woman who had become his wife sat on his hips, using her body weight to hold him in place. Anne took a basin and cloth, wiping his brow and trying to soothe him. Thinking of what her husband had told her, jailed and flogged for defending a boy, this man had stood for him for most of his life.

Finally the ugly task was done, and Aramis used a cloth to wipe the closed wounds. "Now we wait."

"Wait for what?" Anne demanded, knowing these people were unnerved to have her here.

"It wasn't the lashes that did this majesty, that whip was treated with something; the wounds began festering moments after they were inflicted." Aramis explained, wiping his hands.

"Has the King been informed?"

"No, we had other priorities. Porthos and D'Artagnan have gone to find out what it might be." The musketeers lifted him, and she heard the man groan. "Magdalene help us wrap him."

Anne reached to hold his head as the man struggled to come too. "Captain Treville, you are alright."

She held his head as his wife's hands bound his chest. And waited as the musketeers moved him to his bed, a strong man should not be felled by poison. But if he lived she thought his life might be a little different now. "He is a strong man, a good man."

The young woman began to cry, Anne touched her hand; tugging her down to sit. This was a very difficult way to start a marriage, older than she had been when she was sent to marry Louis but far less prepared. She had been prepared for a marriage of duty since childhood, she had always known it would be arranged and her future husband a stranger; but she had been offered far more luxury. "A man like Treville does not give up easily; he will be good to you. He has already proven your conduct, and he will not allow others to push you around."

"My father did this to him. He will not want me." Then began to rise. "I'm sorry majesty, can I offer you something?"

Remembering herself she thought, sometimes Anne wished people wouldn't do that, sometimes she simply wanted to be a woman. "I want you to sit, and talk to me. Remember I entered an arranged marriage too. I know how hard it can be. Treville will be a good to you."

"He already has, and he didn't have to." Magdalene whispered. "He didn't prove my virtue; I don't have it to give him."

"How then?" She thought of the sheet he tossed to the man who accused this girl in an act of defiance; she hadn't needed to ask the question. "Do not tell anyone else that."

A man like Treville would have no issue with letting a little blood to stain a sheet, especially to defy a man who irritated him. And any gentleman, honorable man would be irritated by a man treating his daughter in such a way as this woman's. The musketeers returned and the woman rose again, afraid to be close to her.

"I will be heading back, if you would escort me. I will expect regular updates on his health. Treville has been a loyal soldier, I do not want to see him go like this."

…

He woke with a nasty head ache and the moment he tried to move his entire body ached; struggling to remember why. The last thing he could remember was riding back from the magistrate's court, and then it was brief memories and blackness.

A cloth touched his brow, blinking he focused on a face; pretty blue eyes, up close he realized were flecked with green and full of concern. And pieces began to fall into place, the wife he hadn't planned on taking. Magdalene, a woman much younger than him, in the prime of her life tied to him as he neared retirement. It was not an uncommon thing, a wife was often much younger than her husband; but it was a duty he had not thought to take on.

Her hands were gentle, and he sighed as she unbound his back; the cool water felt good. He wasn't used to being tended, Aramis saw to the wounds of most men in the regiment but generally the follow up didn't follow until it was time to remove the stitches; that was not going to be a process he looked forward to. "Magdalene, what time is it?"

"Early afternoon." The girl responded, her face revealing how bad his back looked. "The musketeers are waiting for you to wake up."

"I need to see them, Athos, get him." He needed to know what had happened, the woman nodded and darted away. When the door opened he tried to push himself up, he did not want his men to see him like this.

"Rest." Athos crossed the room quickly, angry with himself he ignored his musketeer's instruction; forcing his body up. The younger man grabbed him by the armpits and pulled him up to sit. "At least you've got some fight back."

"What happened?" Fifty lashes would not do this to him, Marie de Medici had ordered far worse and he hadn't felt like this.

"The whip was treated with a poison, it was fast acting; Aramis had a job of patching you up this time. I've sent word to the court that you've woken, the matter is being investigated." And now it would not be murder, he should be pleased about that as he would have been the one who would be dead, had it been Magdalene he doubted she would have survived; and that angered him.

"Who was with you?" He was trying to place brief memories, flashes of pain and faces.

"Aramis and I, your wife and for a time the Queen." Athos smirked at the thought.

"The Queen?"

Athos nodded. "She said the King shared some memories with her, from when he was a boy. She asked for a report."

"Tell them I am fine, I will be fit for duty when required." He wished his words carried a bit more force, though Athos had the decency to nod. He was not willing to stay down because of a few lashes, poison or not.

"With all due respect Captain take the time to heal." Athos began to rise and he shifted, thinking to lay back down; his body trembled. Athos hands steadied him, helped him shift onto his stomach and stretch out on the bed again. The man grasped his forearm, eyes fixed on a small mark, one Treville had made himself early that morning. "I'll let Magdalene back in."

Athos left and the woman slipped back in, settling onto the side of the bed, that cool cloth pressing back to his skin. If nothing else she was attentive and he appreciated it, he was silent as she worked and seemed to become more comfortable, her warm hand rested on her shoulder as the other dabbed at his back; it felt as though he was burning up. He shifted, resting his chin on his forearm allowing a sign to slip past his lips. "That feels good."

"I am glad it helps, I am so sorry he hurt you." She sounded close to tears again, he wasn't sure what to do with a crying woman; or how to make it stop. He knew how to inspire men to fight, how to gather courage, present a cause; but not words of romance that women liked.

"Better me than you. I will heal, you will never go back there. You will live here, and when I am gone my pension will support you." He assured her, they had talked very little last night, she had fallen asleep so early; probably exhausted from the turmoil of the day. "The garrison is not a regal place but you will always be safe here."

"Thank you. I will learn to be a good wife." Blue eyes watered a little. "I will due my duty to you, but I will tell you the truth…"

He took her hand, stopping her sentence. "Ours can be a marriage of name only, I will not force a woman to bed; but as far as anyone else knows we are man and wife."

That may not be true, he knew Athos would guess; and that meant the other three would know. But he had claimed her innocence and few would be willing to challenge that, and as far as he was concerned she would never have contact with her father again.

"Let me soak your back, they said when the fever breaks the threat from the poison will have passed." He released her hand, and she began to bathe his back again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

She stared at the man laying on his stomach, trying to sort out why she felt as she did for him. She barely knew him, she hadn't even heard his first name, and nearly everyone simply called him Captain. He was younger than her father's business partner, her intended, but not by much. Yet so much different, he was strong, his muscles tight and lean; he was not unattractive.

But it was his gentleness that she noticed even more, she knew to have earned such a rank he was a firm man but he was kind to her. More than she deserved, he hadn't needed to defend her innocence, he had never even asked if she was; it was almost as though he didn't care. However, that would be hoping too much, all men cared about being the first for their wife. She would have to hope he would believe her when she told him the truth.

He stirred and she rose, unwinding the bandages again and bathing the wounds with water that she had boiled earlier and allowed to cool. Then pressed the cloth to his forehead; he rested fitfully but at least he rested. He was a man she thought she could learn to love, but for now she could respect him and tend to him. Thinking to accomplish something that might please him when he woke she set to work mending the shirt his men had torn off of him. She knew how to run a house, probably more then most noble women; she could learn to be a soldier's wife. Her mother lost in childbirth and the child, her younger brother weak and sickly the nurse's focus had always been him. Passed off to the other servants Maggie had learned their trades, more like mothers to her than she deserved, she had seen how her father treated them first hand. But their lessons stuck in her mind and now they would be put to practice.

The shirt mended she hung it on the hook with his jacket, his sword and pistol hanging nearby; within reach of the bed. The quarters were small, barely more than one room, partitioned by columns and well placed shelves; tidying would not be much of a chore. And she set about that as he slept, not wanting to think when the last time it had been done, singing a tune she had often heard as a child. It was his moan that drew her back to his side, touching her hand to his shoulder she winced; the fever had spiked again. And he was in pain.

Alcohol might help ease it but she was not strong enough to lift him herself, she would not call his men; they already thought her to be weak. Taking more cloths she soaked his back, his shoulders and washed his face; gently lifting his head each time. A nasty bruise had bloomed where his soldier had struck him, it had been a small kindness but short lived as the soldier proved right; he was not a man to be dragged under by pain. His skin cooled some but she was afraid to move away, it had only taken a few moments for the fever to spike before and he was more restless then before.

Humming softly Maggie tended him through the night, in the morning she rose to check his cupboards and found a slim supply of food and purse of coins; tucking the latter back in its place. She set about making something he might eat, if he was to regain his strength he would need sustenance. The bread that was not the freshest she set it aside, from the few vegetables she could make a decent broth; it would be easy on his stomach at first. Setting about it she did not turn back until she heard him groan; turning to find him struggling to rise again. A stubborn man she thought.

She meant to soothe him back into the bed but blue eyes that refused to beg focused on the chair near the fireplace with longing; he pushed himself to his feet. "I can't carry you."

"Just let me lean on you." His voice was weak, he struck her a man who hated to ask for help.

Drawing close she tried to find a place she could use to hold him that would not hurt him. But his arms wrapped around her shoulders and pushed, using her frame he levered himself forward and struggled to the chair. Letting out a harsh cry when he dropped into it; his back making contact where it shouldn't have. His desire to get up had made her hope that the fever had passed but he was still too warm, though he choose a chair near the fire. Wrapping her hand in cloth she took the pot from the fire and ladled some up. "Try to eat something."

He was silent as he sipped the broth, he finished the cup and she refilled it; hoping he would keep it down. They had not told her if the two men had found out what had been used to taint the whip but he was up and he was lucid; hopefully that meant he would be alright. "Thank you Magdalene."

"I would prefer it if you called me Maggie." Her father, his friends they called her Magdalene, he could draw her name out for so many syllables in his disgust and at the disappointment he found her to be; because she was strong and her brother remained weak. "If you like."

"Maggie it is." He nodded his agreement. "Would you see if Athos or Porthos are in the yard yet?"

…

He watched her go, he would need to remember to speak gently to her, she was still fearful but inside of that there was a woman who seemed determined to survive. A woman who had known only abuse, it would take time for her to truly trust his words. When she returned he heard boots thudding on the stairs, he held out the cup and she took it to refill it; watching Porthos scent the air as he entered. Serge, one of their veterans generally handled the cooking, but it was not a strength.

She brought it back and he reached out, wrapping his hands over hers. "Take that to the table, there should still be some bread to put with it. If I don't offer them some they will get testy; but if I do they are unlikely to leave any."

"So she cooks, lucky man." Porthos grinned as Maggie crossed to the table to eat.

"Help me downstairs and then bring the pot, you can share it." He needed to speak with his men.

Porthos helped him down the stairs and as he settled at the bench he glanced around, it was still early morning but the men would be up; just not willing to surface and let him see them worn from the drink. When the pot was set on the table the three he was looking for appeared, if nothing else food was a lure his men couldn't resist. They settled at the table around him, mugs filled with broth as the split a loaf of bread. He let them have a few moments to eat, the air was still cool and it felt good. Treville knew he needed this fever to break, that was the only way to know he was clear of the poison and the risk of infection.

"Was there any word from the court?"

"We've questioned the magistrate and his attendants, we intend to speak to your father in law on the matter today but we were informed it was his business partner who supplied the man to whip you." D'Artagnan answered, still one of the newest, the young man was a bit more fearful of him than the others.

"Talk to the partner first, but speak to the servants; they abused her and I want to know how." He needed to build her trust before she would tell him any of it and that would take time; he wanted to know now. As he finished a messenger rode in. "Has there been any word from the King?"

"If you have recovered his majesty would see you this morning." Treville nodded his agreement and the messenger fled, likely with a list of several more errands to run.

"Have you recovered enough?"

He glared at Athos, though he knew it was a question all of his men would be thinking, Athos was just the voice. "I'm still breathing aren't I? Then I am fit enough to do my duty."

Though he did not look forward to sitting astride a horse, however he still had a garrison to run and men to see to. Dispatching men to see to various tasks throughout the city took more energy than he wanted to admit, and he did not argue when Athos slid under his arm to help him up the stairs. "I will go with you."

Treville did not argue, he strapped on his uniform the thick leather settling uncomfortable against his torn skin and fastened his sword. The ride to the palace was slower than usual but he remained upright and dismounted without help; fighting to keep his body steady. Walking in to the garden however his body began to rebel, his joints felt weak and the sun made his body burn.

Forcing himself to focus he picked a point; a trick he learned a long time ago. Useful for managing boredom as well as pain, he choose the table between the two seats, focusing his gaze and keeping his body at attention. Two decorative glasses, the King's and Queen's, when he heard footsteps he turned as the royals approached, it was one thing for his men to see him hurting but he would never allow the King to; it was his duty to always protect the King.

He bowed as they took their seats, and waited while wine was poured, the King would make himself comfortable before conducting business. Treville listened and waited but suddenly a memory faint and vague played through his mind as the Queen lifted her cup; her face shifting slightly as she sipped. Why was her drink a shade paler than the Kings?

The wine had come from the same bottle, he had noticed that before; but did he know what it meant? Pale wine, bitter wine it meant something. His blood ran cold, and he felt Athos ease closer, trying to remember his wife's words; she had sung as she worked in the night thinking him asleep.

"Treville, I see you have recovered. I need a regiment to escort me into the country tomorrow." The King spoke but he struggled to focus on the man's words, trying desperately to recall his wife's.

"I will see to it Majesty." He nodded, privately hoping that was all the King wanted.

"Have your men learned anything of the offense? Punishment is one thing but anything further is a disgrace."

"My men are investigating the matter." At least he hadn't called it fitting, the punishment had been named before a man was named to take it.

"Then we should not keep you, Treville; I will expect a full report."

Thankful for the excuse he bowed and moved with more purpose and energy than he had; he needed to know. Treville mounted and urged his horse into a trot; not waiting for Athos. By the time they reached the gates Athos was beside him, and as he struggled up the stairs the man's hand supported him. "Athos I need a moment with my wife."

The door opened and Maggie looked scared, Athos leaned around him. "His fever is back up."

"I am fine." And an elbow to the chest made his musketeer choke on any more advice he had. "I need to talk to you."

Treville stumbled as he shut the door, adding some measure of privacy. Her small hands pressed to his chest, his arm. "You are warm to the touch, let me get that coat off of you."

"No, listen to me Maggie." He needed to sit, if he stayed on his feet much longer his legs might give out. "You were singing last night."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you." She skittered away as he lowered himself into the chair by the desk.

"You didn't bother me." He took her hand, pulling her close. "Maggie last night you were singing something. Tell me the words."

Her cheeks turned pink and she looked to her feet and to the side. "It's just rhyme, I learned it when I was a child. It is herbal treatments, about burns, infections and such, it is a handy way to remember things."

"And how to make a woman barren?" He cupped her jaw, in this moment she was scared of him; but he needed an answer. "Tell me Maggie."

"Yes. But it is only a part of the song. I swear I would never use it to prevent your child…"

"No, Maggie that is not what I am worried about." Now he had terrified her, soldiers were so much easier; it was a good thing for them to have a bit of fear for their captain. Shifting his grip he pulled her onto his knee; calming herself. "Maggie I saw something today, something I have seen a hundred times before and thought nothing of. Tell me the words to that part. I know it is pale vine and something about wine."

"Pale, vile vines, make bitter wine. I swear I would not do it to you." She squirmed in his lap and Treville tightened his jaw; she was not uncomfortable to hold. "It is only a rhyme."

"I am not worried about that. I mean that." He leaned in and pressed his lips to her forehead. "What would it taste like?"

"It gives a bitter taste, but in wine it is tolerable; the wine just does not taste sweet." He had twisted some of the words in his head but it was close.

"Is there another way to give it to a person?"

"I've known women who pour it into a glass, it is almost clear, and allow it to dry, at most the wine is a shade or two lighter…"

"Coating the inside of the glass, it would mix as the wine is poured." That was how it had to be done, it was a gamble; but was it one worth taking? Some would think it a risk worth taking, a barren queen might be put aside as a king needed only one thing from her. It was unusual for a young woman to be barren for so many years, and many questions had been raised given only a few years after the wedding there had been a child she had lost suddenly. But could it happen under so many noses for such a time? "You've had to use it."

"I didn't have a choice."

"I believe that, but someday you are going to tell me the truth of it." Now to prove what he believed. He had served the King well for many years, it would be an embarrassment if he was wrong; but a risk he needed to take. "Will it do anything to a man?"

"He probably wouldn't drink as much."

"Good." Because he would be having a taste of the Queen's wine.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

It was unusual for Treville to request a private audience with the King, usually he left schemes for the Cardinal. The two men worked together but Anne knew they were not friends, the latter was not present this afternoon. A cup bearer poured wine as they sat, when she reached for her glass the Captain cleared his throat. "Majesty, excuse my manors but please do not drink from that."

The ice in those blue eyes that stayed calm in the face of almost anything scared her; there was fury in Treville today. "Treville what is the meaning of this?"

"Something has come to my attention that may have a direct impact on her majesty." The man shifted forward somewhat.

"Do you believe someone is trying to harm my Queen?" Had the man known that morning when he made a quick exit? Or had it been what she had thought and he had been in more pain that he could tolerate. Her husband was on his feet now, his eyes filled with fury but she knew of the two men one wielded authority of a country but the other enforced that; and both sought to protect her.

"I do not believe anyone is trying to kill the Queen, at least not yet. But I do believe she has suffered." The man's eyes softened as his gaze focused on her. "Majesty, may I?"

He stepped up and took her glass, taking a sip himself before anyone could interfere; at his wince Anne shifted. She knew he was not well and reached for the glass herself, cool blue eyes met hers; no one would stop him on this.

"Well?" The King demanded.

"It isn't right Sire, an apothecary should be called." Treville held the glass away, his jaw tightened and she wondered if the taste was so bad to him or if his ordeal the day before was more troubling than he would let on. "Allow another man to taste it if you wish. To my knowledge it will not effect a man; I believe it to be a common herbal remedy women use to prevent pregnancy."

"How do you know this?" The King demanded.

"A rhyme of sorts, my wife she sings it. It is a women's guide to many household treatments from cuts and burns to all sorts of maladies. It is not uncommon, many who cannot afford a surgeon or do not want the scandal of it use similar remedies. Because of its simplicity it is difficult to detect." The man strode forward and reached for the bottle of wine a servant had placed behind them, he took a swig of it and then held it out to her. "Majesty, this is the bottle your wine came from."

Even as her husband began to protest she took it; she trusted the man who offered it. She took a sip, surprised by the sweetness. "It doesn't taste the same."

She looked to her husband, was this the reason she could not give him a son? Was it not her at all? But someone plotting against the King, or against the Spanish treaty her marriage had made? Her heart soared, perhaps now; now she could give her husband an heir.

"Treville you have done me a great service today." Her husband rose, striding forward he clapped his soldier on the back. "Now I will have an heir."

Anne knew he hadn't been thinking and that it had been an impulse in excitement but the man hit his knees as the King realized what he had done. As Athos moved to his captain's side she stepped forward, taking her husband's hands. "Let us celebrate this and give the captain leave to recover; he must heal to be able to serve you. I will drink nothing until the truth of it is discovered."

"But we must discuss how to deal with this situation. You must be protected my dear, you will bear the future king of France. Treville is a man of war, of many kinds of war; I wish his counsel on this. We have no way to know how long it has gone on or who is responsible; I only know one man who is not." This is when she longed to shake her husband, sometimes it took so much time to make him sense; to look beyond himself. Before them was a man who would unquestionably lay his life on the line for their safety and who rarely failed them; running him into the ground was only a way to put him in a grave sooner.

"Then let's discuss it briefly but the poor man needs rest Sire." Turning she stepped to the door and snapped her fingers to a guard standing nearby. "Fetch him a chair."

As she took her seat, her hands fidgeting nervously in her lap, she watched Athos heft his commanding officer up and settle him in the chair the guard brought; the man's face a pale mask. He was not well but he was a man, he would not admit it. She took her husband's hand, hoping to encourage his attention in another direction quickly and let the musketeers go.

"We must send for Cardinal Richelieu, he can advise me on this."

"But Treville is here now. And he brought it to your attention, he will know better how to place guards than the Cardinal." She soothed, if the Cardinal knew they were waiting he would take his sweet time and the meeting might drag out for hours; just to torture his rival.

"Quite right you are, of course the Cardinal will know how to punish the culprit when Treville locates him." Louis' attention returned to the man trying to sit straight in the chair.

"Sire, I urge you to consider that poison is often a woman's weapon." Treville spoke in a measured voice. "Likely someone in you employ for many years, given her majesty's response it is not a new additive."

"No, it is not, I cannot even tell you when it began to have that taste, I simply thought it was of a vintage you favored. When we traveled we did not have it, and naturally we occasionally try different vintages and the flavor is different." So it was someone close to her, and close to her for a long time; that was a thought that made her feel cold. As Queen she had people around her most of the time but few she could trust; right now she desperately wanted someone to trust.

"Years?" Her husband's face aghast with shock again. "My wife must be protected; how can we do this?"

"I would propose a companion Sire, a new face that we can trust. A woman to be near the Queen without drawing attention, we tell her what to look for but let no one else know that your majesties are aware of this." The King had sent the guards out when Treville entered, beyond him and his musketeer no one else knew right now; except perhaps the man's new wife.

"An excellent idea. Perhaps even your wife?"

"No Sire, I fear not for such a role as that, my wife has been badly abused, you want a woman who will tell you the truth, who will not be afraid to be a voice for the Queen; a defender. I fear that is not a role Magdalene would serve you well in; though she would be only too happy to provide company to her majesty if required. A woman with some weapons training might be of service." Treville told the truth, his wife was a nice young woman but the poor little thing was only beginning to put her own life back together again; and being near a strong man would help her with that.

"Do you know such a woman?" The King enquired, Anne hoped he did, she would much rather a companion Treville knew and trusted to one simply hired for the position.

"I do. Madame Bonacieux, one of my men has trained her to handle a sword as well as a pistol. You may not always like what she has to say but she will tell you the truth and she is loyal to a fault. Constance is also close in age to her Majesty, it might become a fast friendship." As Treville spoke she saw Athos' eyes shift onto his captain and then the musketeer smirked at the floor.

"This role will require tasting my Queen's wine, this outrage will not be allowed to continue, will her husband protest?" Not that such a thing would stop him, she thought privately.

"He may, but not likely for very long." There was something in Treville's tone as he spoke, this woman must be a friend; perhaps he didn't think much of her husband.

"I will have her sent for immediately."

"Send for her Sire, but may I speak with her, prepare her for what to watch for?" Treville rose as the King did; Anne shifted to follow suit.

"Of course. Treville of course, you will also investigate this matter. Your service in this matter will not be forgotten." As the King eased forward Treville bowed as best he could; but she noted he stayed beyond his King's reach. "Until there is news I will leave it in the hands of the musketeers. But now my Queen and I have things to attend to."

Treville bowed again, and turned with Athos in step, she watched them leave; wishing she had a moment to speak to him alone. But it was not to happen, and now her husband had renewed hopes in an heir; she turned her attention to him.


	5. Chapter 5

Issai: Thank you for taking the time to review, and no the Queen is not pregnant by Aramis in this story.

 **Chapter Five**

He was waiting for Constance, he had sent Aramis to escort her from the palace to speak to him tonight; D'Artagnan had informed them that the King had summoned her soon after he had left. Constance was now to be a companion of the Queen, at her side at almost all times. And in a way an honorary musketeer; doing a job none of them could. He would see her prepared just as he would any of his men, and propriety be damned he would ensure she was trained; he had named her and in that he had made her the chief obstacle in some one's path to the Queen.

Maggie flitted restlessly, looking for something she hadn't cleaned or tidied; the woman seemed to think to be his wife was to be his servant. She wouldn't settle until he made her, and privately he hated the people who had made her like this; when would he get to see the real personality of the woman he married? He'd had glimpses, moments when she thought him unconscious or unaware; he wanted to see more of her like that.

He stretched out his arm; opening his hand. "Come here."

She obeyed silently and approached him. He had told her he would not push her but he had scared her this afternoon. When she was within reach he pulled her down, she sat lightly on his knee; tense and ready to run.

He wrapped an arm around her loosely; if she wanted to move all she'd have to do was stand. "There are things we must discuss."

She nodded, shifting slightly, pressed against him in a rather appealing way. First he would deal with one matter he should have addressed this morning. "There is money in the cupboard, you may use it at the market but for the time being one of my men will go with you whenever you leave the garrison. Second, I will not ask you to leave your home but at times I will have meetings with my men, I will draft orders and plan missions; anything you see or hear is absolutely confidential. It is King's business."

"I will not betray your trust." Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

Treville nodded, she was easy on the eyes even if ready to run; he would earn hers. "I believe you."

She was watching him, he could feel her eyes on him, assessing and gauging him, much as he did her. What did she think of him? He was twenty years older than her, she was barely more than a girl; but she had seen the worst of what a man could be. Gently he touched her cheek, tucking a curl behind her ear; she shivered under his touch. Did he remind her of the men who had caused her pain?

"May I go to the market? I could pick up a few things for the cupboard."

"You do not need to ask permission, but go to the apothecary, get a small amount of the remedy as well." He nodded, and called a cadet to escort her; at some point he would actually get too know her. For now he rose and watched her follow the young hopeful out of the walls. Did she notice the little things about him that he did her?

Her dress was mended in many spots, her corset and shift were ill fitting. She had many fine scars on her hands and forearms, more fitting of a woman who knew a life of hard work than the daughter of a nobleman. But those rare smiles, her eyes lit up and her cheeks flushed; she was a beautiful young woman.

She was prompt and returned, tucking things into the cupboards and setting them about the little counter; it looked homier than he had ever made it. She left a small bottle out, when he crossed to her she showed him how much to add to the cup, it took only a few drops.

He saw D'Artagnan rise from the bench outside, his newest commissioned musketeer had fallen for a woman but the small issue of her being married remained. Before she was waylaid he crossed to the top of the stairs. "Constance."

D'Artagnan shot a sad look to him before schooling his features, the young man did not know that his time with her was going to become even more limited given she would be at the palace; but she would be away from her husband's temper. The young woman started up the stairs and he stepped back into his office, holding the door for her. It took a moment to make the introductions to his new wife, Maggie quickly excused herself and slipped down to the yard.

"Constance, I assume you have spoken with the Queen?" He crossed to take the seat on the far side of the desk, lowering himself carefully into the chair; his back was throbbing.

"Yes. Thank you for the recommendation."

"I recommended you because I believe you can do it. But it is not without risk, Constance you understand what this is?" She had to know, to know what she was stepping into, it was not a proper role for a woman but they had little choice; he or any of his men would draw too much attention.

"Yes. Someone is trying to poison the Queen." He heard the nerves in her voice and wanted to sigh; he should have handled it himself.

"Not poison, or at least not to kill, the palace's food and wine is tested by servants. We believe that someone has been giving the Queen something to prevent a child, which is why you will taste her wine." He explained, rising he took a bottle of wine from the cupboard and two cups. "We believe the Queen has been ingesting it for some time. It will not kill you, or make you ill; but you will be barren."

"Better me than the Queen." Constance tipped her chin up bravely.

"Yes, you need to taste her wine, other drinks should be safe; to my knowledge wine is sweet enough to mask the taste." He poured the first cup, and took a sip before offering it to her, he did not like the flavor but he didn't want the woman to be afraid that it would harm her. "If it tastes like that do not give it to the Queen, get a fresh glass, and check for any moisture or residue before using it."

He poured a second cup and offered it to her, he had known the taste, but Constance had taken a bigger sip. He held up the small bottle. "It is almost clear and only a few drops will do it. I made that cup strong, the flavor in the Queen's wine may be faint."

"It doesn't taste bad. It is sad that someone would try to stop her having a baby." But she continued to sip from the clean cup.

"It is treason, and the person responsible is threatening the succession of the throne. Constance anyone you see, anything you suspect. I mean anything, you report it to me immediately, do not seek further proof or confront the individual. I will deal with it." His tone was hard, a tone he used with his soldiers often; as far as he was concerned Constance was one. "I will arrange a time each week when you will meet with me for further weapon's training. I regret I cannot begin your training today."

"No, you cannot, is your back healing?" His men, Treville thought with annoyance; so it was going to spread.

"Well enough." He was not going to discuss the situation of how he had become married with her, or anyone else; but there was one other thing. "I have a favor to ask of you."

"Of course."

"What does a woman need? I've taken Maggie from her father, but I've nothing for her; clothes or such." And he didn't know where to begin for getting it.

"Many things. I can take her measurements and drop them at a merchant's, I know what to ask for; I'll send word to you when they are ready. And I won't tell her you asked." She smiled at him, Treville shifted uncomfortably, he should have thought of this sooner but he didn't know what women needed.

The woman caught Maggie and he watched the two from a distance, Constance told her a quick story about making a dress for her cousin and thinking Maggie to be a close match. The women visited for a short time and when Maggie's turned to tend the fire Constance slipped the note into her pocket. He would see to that in the morning, the King was going to the country for the day, he would not have to be at the palace all day; and he had paperwork to deal with.

…

As the evening wore on Maggie was nervous, the first night he had not slept in the bed and the second she had not; tonight he would expect her to lay with him. He had said it would be a marriage of name only if that was what she needed, but those were words to comfort her; he was a man. He seemed a decent man, but in time he would expect to have her and Maggie dreaded that. But she had never laid beside a man all night, shared a bed. She watched as he hung his sword with the other weapons on hooks at the end of the bed, his shirt followed; a sign he was still to warm but refusing to speak of it.

Maggie glanced away, fearing he intended to remove his breeches as well, but he only groaned as he leaned down to remove his boots. Slipping over she knelt to work the fastenings herself, setting them at the foot of the bed. His hand slipped to her cheek, his touch soft even though his skin was rough with callouses. "Thank you. Come to bed Maggie."

She nodded, rising she removed her corset and skirts, her shift the only barrier between her skin and his. He held up the light sheet for her to slip under it, in the narrow bed he lay on his side; she tried to leave some space between them. He didn't reach for her, his eyes closed and he stayed still. She studied the scars on his face, hesitantly she reached out to trace the one near his eye; a blade had made it. She wondered how it had happened. The cadet, had told her a few stories of him as they walked to the market, he had the respect of his men and had been something of a legend with a sword when he was younger; one of the first musketeers assigned when the regiment was founded by the previous King.

She heard what they didn't say, saw it in the way the cadets listened to him and his men turned to him; he was more than just a Commanding Officer. He was one of them, he had taken the risks they did, put in the time in training, in putting his own life on the line. He bore the marks to prove it, and then some. He said nothing about what her father had done, about the pain she had brought to his door, or the responsibility he had been given. What if it had been a different man in the court that day? If the King had suggest one of his other musketeers to be her husband? Or had stayed silent, would she have survived what he did?

He might not be a member of the aristocracy but Captain of the King's Musketeers was not a position without importance. If he had wanted a wife he probably would have chosen one before now. He would have had one with something to give him, if not her virtue a dowry; her father had paid hers to the man he intended for her years ago. The first time he let the man have her, as a celebration; and privately she was glad she was no longer in their sick world. But there was nothing for Treville to gain from her.

His chest moved lightly in sleep and she became bolder; pressing her palm to his shoulder; his skin still hot to the touch. He hadn't wanted her to look at his back tonight, and now he slept close to the wall and she could not. She didn't remember drifting off but when she woke she found herself curled into his chest, any space left between them was gone, his arm draped over her and her cheek burrowed into his shoulder. It was morning, past time she should have gotten up if she was going to have breakfast made for him. Easing back she tried to slip from the bed without waking him. Maggie didn't have her feet on the floor before he was upright; a blade in his hand.

His gaze swept the room a moment before he set it down, the hand that had held the knife pressed to her back. "I'm not used to sharing a room yet."

"I'm sorry." She whispered, she knew he was going to tell her to stop saying that soon, she saw the look in his eye when she did; but it was reflex.

"Lay here for a moment." His hand shifted to her side and she knew if he wanted he could simply pull her back into bed with him. But when she settled on her side, her face only inches from his she saw him smile a little. "Did you sleep well?"

Maggie nodded, he cupped her cheek, she knew his watchful gaze didn't miss the pink in her cheeks; did he know that she had liked being curled next to him?

"Maggie, are there any of your things that you want from your old home?"

No! Her mind answered without question, she wanted nothing to remind her of that place when she was here. But was that cold? To let go of all of the past without looking back, not everything had been bad. But the memories of the good were of more comfort than things. "I don't need anything from there."

"D'Artagnan and Porthos have closed the matter against your father and his business partner. I intend to petition the King to drop it, I want no further dealings with them but if there is anything you want from your home this is the time, when I have the leverage." His palm slid down to her throat, blue eyes studying her reaction to his words.

"Why?" Her mind asked many more questions but she could only voice a single word.

"I've no interest in games, taking the issue to trial is only a game that draws out contact with them, likely encouraging them to do something foolish and seek contact with us. This way I break the connection on my own terms." He showed more skill at navigating her father's tricks than most did Maggie thought; often watching business associates pulled with half truths and tricks. "Your father is involved in a dangerous business Maggie."

"He wanted to hurt me, but he took it out on you." A shameful thought that weighed heavy on her.

She could never tell him the relief that had flooded through her body the morning he rose to return to that court without her. She had spent days dreading that whip coming down on her back, knowing she would never escape them once they marked her like that. She had wanted to die that morning before the court, and then the next she had been free of them; married to a decent man. A man who bore a punishment meant for her, one she deserved.

Suddenly his hands wrapped around her waist and she found herself face down on the bed; his weight shifting over her. "Good."

She jumped when his mouth pressed to the back of her neck, his hand pulling down her shift; his mouth sliding down after it. He traced hot trails over her shoulders, sucking the skin against his teeth and stealing her breath. Her belly tightened in an unfamiliar way, and her whole body seemed aware of his every touch.

"This is worth it." Maggie froze as his hand slid up under her shift, running up to where his lips rested between her shoulder blades. "Mine."

She swallowed hard, waiting for his hands to spread her, his body to tear her; but he didn't. His mouth pressed to the base of her neck, sending shivers through her again before he rose. She heard his harsh exhale as he straightened, she rolled over, and the bandages on his back were stained.

"Let me look at your back." His hands had been all over hers, but he seriously needed tending; his wounds should not be strained. And it had not only been his mouth that had been hot on her back, but the bandages were more concerning.

"It is fine, Aramis will take the stitches in a few days; it will be a bother for some time." He shrugged off her hand and eased into the shirt.

"It could be infected." And that was dangerous, if he would not let her look perhaps she could convince his soldier to.

His uniform in place and his sword strapped to his waist he took the stairs down to the yard. She stoked the coals and started the fire, at least she would give him some good food; and find a time to ask his soldier to check his wounds. She hoped his men passed muster, most were riding out with the King's hunting party this morning; Treville was sending the scouts out ahead of them.

A moment later she heard a harsh shout echo through the yard, crossing to the window she saw three men mounted in the yard; her husband held the reigns to a rider less horse. He couldn't intend to ride out himself. But then a man came scrambling across the yard, and in the shadows she watched as her husband stepped close; she knew his words would not be gentle.

She was beginning to understand the regiment, they were unique, different then the military or red guards; a small and elite regiment made up of smaller units. Her husband oversaw and trained them all, and young men lined up to try and join their ranks. She had seen that they respected the Captain and looked up to him; but this morning she thought the man facing her husband might be afraid of him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

The day could not be simple, the scouting unit was to head out at first light but the cadet could not drag himself from bed on time. And apparently neither could the King, his regiment was assembled in the yard for over an hour before the royal hunting party rode out; they would be travelling through the heat of the day now.

Treville waited to see them off, in that time the Queen and the Cardinal requested his presence on separate matters. The Cardinal wanted a unit of musketeers to escort a prisoner to Paris; the red guards were apparently too busy.

It took all of his strength to keep himself upright and moving, ordering Athos' unit to collect the prisoner; that would bring Aramis back today and he had a feeling he may need him. After that he headed to the Queen's chambers.

Constance turned into the corridor and he slowed his pace to match hers. "You can pick up your parcels in an hour or so. I picked a nice blue; it will match both your eyes and hers."

"Thank you." Why a dress needed to match their eyes he didn't know, but at least Maggie would have a few things of her own.

As they entered the Queen's parlor Constance moved to her side, Treville bowed; ignoring the fire that burned through his shoulders as he did. "Majesty."

"Treville, I hoped I might enjoy your wife's company some day soon." The Queen gestured to a seat across from her; Constance took another.

"Of course Majesty, I am sure Maggie would be honored." He saw a reaction ripple through the attending women, perhaps they sensed the distance he did.

He had served the crown long enough to know the King and Queen to be very lonely though constantly surrounded by people with their own agendas. Often people much older, and with more experience at the political games.

"Your back, it is still troubling you." The Queen was a privileged woman and yet a compassionate one, starkly different from her husband; sometimes he wished not such an observant one.

"It will be fine in time." Though it did not feel like it right now. "Is there anything you need Majesty?"

"We've not the privacy to discuss all that I want at the moment, but I know the King and Cardinal will handle your report but might you tell me the truth of the matter as well? What they are trying to take from me means more than anything else."

Treville nodded, that much he could promise, he had not been asked for an oath on the matter. But as of yet he knew very little, he intended to have Athos sniff around, had intended to have him start this morning but that would be delayed. "As soon as I know anything you will be informed."

"Thank you." The woman paused. "I'll not keep you."

A polite dismissal, Treville was relieved and rose carefully. Collecting his mount he went to the merchant's shop and wished he had left his pistol at the door. He asked for a minor alteration, and agreed to wait.

He had no interest in fabric or lace, he handed over the coin but was not handed his parcel. No, the man launched into the latest fashions that he neither cared about nor wanted to buy. If Maggie needed anything else she would have to come purchase it herself; this was not his forte.

He had neither the interest nor the patience, right now he wanted to be in the garrison; preferably stretched out on a flat surface. His vision blurred as he mounted, a stabbing pain racing along his spine as he settled.

Finally inside the garrison walls he dismounted and set the parcel on the stairs; turning to his horse. The animal nudged his arm, one of the cadets reached for the reigns but stepped aside as he led the bay to his stall. It was tempting to let the boy tend him but the horse had carried him through many a fight and he had been raised with the responsibility of tending his horse.

Stowing the tack Treville wrapped clean hay in a cloth and brushed the animal down, turning as someone stepped into the stall. Maggie sidled around him and hung a bucket of water on the wall; pretty blue eyes studied him with concern.

"Is Aramis back yet?" She didn't need to say a word, her eyes said it all; and his body told him the same.

"They arrived just before you, I'll fetch him and Athos." Maggie's hand touched his arm lightly before slipping away.

Leaving the stalls he took the stairs up to his quarters, leaving the parcel on his desk. Maggie had been busy this morning, the fire roared and water boiled, she had cleared the table and fresh strips of cloth lay piled on a stool by the hearth; she had been prepared to tend him whether he wanted it or not.

Removing his jacket and sword he hung them up, he heard boots on the stairs. Aramis, Athos and Porthos followed Maggie into the room; he sighed. Treville was well aware of the risks, he had seen many men die of infection; he had hoped the first round had been enough. But living in denial could kill him, he did not wish to die that way; not today.

"This does not require an audience." He was well aware of why Aramis had brought help but he would not fight them; he knew it needed to be done.

"With respect this isn't going to be pleasant Captain." Aramis eyes held sympathy, and he knew the man would not enjoy this.

Maggie had the tools laid out, and a blade heating at the edge of the fire. Pulling off his shirt he reached for the end of the bandage, his hand was knocked away; Aramis gestured to the table. With a sigh he climbed up, Porthos stepped close on one side and Athos took the other.

"You won't be needing this." Aramis murmured, disarming him and cutting away the bandages with his knife.

He preferred a fight to this, at least in a fight his blood was pumping and pain was only another push forward; another reason to fight harder. Now Aramis' fingers ran lightly over aching skin and he dreaded when the man began to work.

"Captain, Treville." Athos called him, he did not turn his head; he knew the method and preferred the pain.

"Jean." Surprised he turned, he hadn't known Maggie knew his first name; he hadn't been called by it in years. Not since his mother died, he wondered where she had heard it but the world went black.

…

Perhaps not the most loyal thing to do but she saw it in the eyes of the three men standing above their Captain; jaws set to try and hide their emotions. Men who refused to let their commanding officer see that they were afraid for him.

Aramis set to work immediately, cutting stitches he had meticulously placed only two days before. Before the skin had been torn and bleeding but now most were swollen, the stitches strained now; his back was infected.

"I will clean and restitch these but he will have to stay in bed for a few days, we will not cover them this time. You will have to wash them often." Aramis instructed as he worked, the two men had their hands braced on either side of her husband's shoulders; ready should he wake.

"We will make his excuses to the King, the regiment will not be back before tomorrow at the earliest. He can dictate any orders we need over the next couple days." Athos seemed her husband's unofficial second in command, the men listened to him. "If you need help with him come get any of us."

She nodded, resting her hand on his cheek, this time he stayed under until the work was done and Maggie was thankful. Athos and Porthos lifted him over to the bed, numbly she offered the three wine as they seemed reluctant to leave and the yard below was empty.

Porthos and Aramis did not stay long but Athos had a chair set back against the wall, his eyes focused on his Captain. She rose and set a bowl of water beside the bed, resting her hip near his Maggie pressed the cloth to the back of his neck. The soldier sat quietly watching them, she went down to the well and returned with a new bucket of water; she froze in the doorway.

Athos leaned over his Captain, his voice was low but she heard his words clear enough. "I buried an indifferent father, Aramis and D'Artagnan lost theirs and Porthos has never known one. Don't take the one we've got because of stupidity."

Maggie swallowed hard, stepping into the room; did he know what his soldier had just said? Setting the pot at the edge of the fire she didn't meet the man's eye as he moved back to his chair. "How long have you worked for him?"

"Five years."

"Were you here when he was whipped before? The scars are old."

"That happened a long time ago. Happened when he was in prison." The man sighed, but she stared at him; when had he been in prison? He watched her a long time before shaking his head. "When the King took the throne his mother attempted to seize power, Treville protected the boy; refused to betray him. Marie de Medici had him imprisoned. The coup failed. Do you know anything about your father's business?"

"Did you investigate my father?" Maggie frowned, the soldier looked almost guilty as he glanced at his Captain; then nodded.

"Your father claims he didn't know that the whip had been tainted. Our questions brought other elements of your father's business to light."

"Do you think he will threaten Treville?"

"No, and even if he did he is not a great concern. However should your father's business come to the King's attention there is the likelihood Treville would be given orders to arrest your father and de Vaunn; that is something you would have to live with?"

"In three days he has been more decent to me than they have in a lifetime." Maggie glared at him, he was asking if she would betray her husband to protect her father.

"There is no discreet way to ask this. But are you with child?" The man stood his ground, his voice low.

"No." Her fist curled, was that what his men really thought? "Not his or anyone else's."

"I wondered about the state of your father's business partnership. He claimed that he took you to court to force the marriage ahead, de Vaunn did not intend you to survive; I only wondered why a man would subject his daughter to that. Or try to cement a partnership with a blood tie at such a risk." The man looked at his hands, his face revealed no sorrow at her embarrassment or discomfort.

"I don't know." Nor did she care to see either of them again.

She could be happy here, she could be a soldier's wife, and she was already beginning to care for Jean Armand Treville. She had found his full name in a family bible; his family tree carefully marked there for several generations. He was the opposite of her father and de Vaunn, she wished her little brother would look up to a man like Treville as he grew up; Rylan would become a better man.

She turned her attention to making a broth, this time with a bit of rabbit to flavor it; relieved when two of the other men turned up. Athos was quiet with the others around and she ladled up bowls of broth and set out warm rolls to go with it. The men gathered around to eat, but Maggie waited for them to leave before trying get their captain to eat.

She was going to have to get used to cooking for soldiers. Her husband had yet to be well enough to really eat anything but his men certainly knew how to sniff out food and pack it away.


	7. Chapter 7

Thank you for the reviews, I am glad you are enjoying the story, I am enjoying writing it.

 **Chapter Seven**

When Maggie curled up next to him Treville reached for her; resting his cheek on her shoulder. Pulling her shift down, he pressed his mouth to soft skin, feeling her sigh and squirm; enjoying the feel of her slim body under his. She was becoming more comfortable with his touch and he enjoyed that.

He listened until her breathing settled, he had wondered if she would come to bed tonight; especially after Athos. His musketeer had crossed the line and in the morning it would be discussed, the young man had no right to question his wife or her loyalty. Let alone whether or not she was with child; that was between him and Maggie. He would have her soon and she would have his child; it was a strange but satisfying thought.

When he woke again early morning light filtered into the room, Maggie slept snuggled against his chest. He brushed her hair back from her face, it had come loose as she slept and fell loose around her shoulders. Gently he trailed a hand down her side, easing his frame around hers as he rose.

His body felt stiff and he knew he was weak, but he was not going to stay in bed for days on end. He would take some time but he also had things to take care of; starting with his musketeer.

Easing the shirt over his head he winced as the fabric rested against his back; he would not be keeping it on very long. Noting that the parcel he had picked up from the merchant still sat on the desk; he would see to that next. Stepping onto the balcony he glanced down to where the only four musketeers of the regiment in Paris today sat at the table in the yard.

"Athos." His tone had all four men looking, all four rose; they would stick together through anything. "I only asked for Athos."

The others sat back down as Athos took the stairs quickly. "Captain, with respect should you be out of bed?"

"You want to talk about respect?" His tone low, he saw Athos register the threat in his words. "You interrogated my wife at my bedside."

"I am sorry. I thought to answer some questions." Athos spoke softly.

"You had no right." The man hesitated and he stepped closer. "Go to the apothecaries throughout the city, find anyone buying herbal remedies to make a woman barren, or the herbs repetitively. Take D'Artagnan with you. If the King returns Aramis will make my excuses; I will not be at court today."

He had a few of his own concerns and they ran similar to Athos' but he was also certain Maggie did not know what her father was involved in. Or how dangerous some of his companions were, the man he had intended to give her to in particular. On the front of it things were legal enough but it didn't take much digging to uncover something darker, vineyards were manned by laborers on farms beyond Paris; not men lurking in the city streets.

"I will keep you informed." Athos left and he returned to his quarters, pausing in the doorway.

Maggie had her back to him, nimble fingers twisted her hair back from her face into a braid, as she worked down to the ends she pulled it over her shoulder. Stepping forward he trailed his fingers down the back of her neck.

"You shouldn't be up." She murmured, letting his fingers rub down her shoulders.

"I'm not staying up." He caught her wrist as she reached for her corset. "I have something for you. It's on the desk."

Treville eased down onto the bed and pulled off his shirt as she went for it. He hung the shirt and took a leather sheath from his gear; working the binding. She brought it back, setting it on the bed beside him as she began to pick at the strings binding it.

Her eyes got big as she lifted the corsets off the top, her fingers trailing over the delicate embroidery. He could see the second corset that was a pale blue; it must have been what Constance was talking about yesterday. "It's so pretty."

"Try it on." He encouraged, enjoying her blush as she picked up the first shift.

There was a white shift and a blue one with a blue and grey skirts that could dress it up if she needed to go to the palace. She fiddled around hanging the things up. "Would you like me to move?"

"No." She murmured, her cheeks stained pink and he tightened his jaw, he had offered but was privately pleased that she didn't agree to him moving.

He was slightly disappointed as she slipped her arms out of her old shift and into the new one, shimmying out of the old one as the other fell into place. The blue was pretty on her and fit well but he had hoped to a little more of her. As she fitted her corset into place he reached for her hips.

She moved to stand between his thighs as he began to work the laces on the corset; careful not to pull it to tight. "Thank you Jean."

"I've one more thing." He smiled a little, he liked it when she said his name but it took some getting used to.

Taking the sheath he slipped his hand under her skirt, his other on her hip to anchor her in place. Running his finger tips up her thigh as he pulled the strap tight around her leg, taking a blade from his gear he slipped it into the sheath. Her hand traced the line of the skirt and he knew when she found the slit; her fingers linked around his.

"You wear this at all times. I'll teach you how to use it." He pulled her down to sit on his lap, leaning in he pressed his lips to hers; feeling her hands rest on the sides of his chest.

She was soft and sweet, he pulled her close and heard as a small purr as she eased into him. Gently he pulled her back into the bed, if she wanted him to stay in bed she could join him for a bit.

…

It was mid afternoon before Maggie was able to get out to the market, a different cadet was shadowing her today. He followed at a distance, she found herself checking to see that he was around after every stop; a girl had joined him.

Stopping a stall she bartered for vegetables, the hair on the back of her neck stood up; it felt as though someone was watching her. Glancing around she didn't see anyone, but she didn't see the cadet either. Heading back to where she had last seen him she tried to ignore a sick feeling in her stomach, Maggie knew if she went back to the garrison without him her husband would not be impressed.

He darted around the corner as she backtracked, she didn't say anything to him; hopefully when the others returned the other cadet would accompany her again. She kept her eyes open as they walked back towards the garrison, looking for any familiar faces; she should have paid more attention before.

Jean was stretched out on the bed reading when she got back, he was trying to rest but it was not natural for him. He had spent the entire morning distracting her from her work, tugging her back to bed any time she was within reach.

The wounds were not nearly as swollen or red as they had been the day before. Taking a basin of water to the bed she sat beside him, his hand shifted to her leg as she began to wash his back. Carefully she checked each wound, scabs had formed and the skin was not as sensitive as before.

His hand slid up her thigh, his thumb running over the hilt of the knife he had strapped there. The weight of it was unfamiliar but not uncomfortable; he was far more used to carrying weapons that she was. Every time she tried to draw it she seemed to get it caught in her skirt.

He turned so that she sat beside him; the knife now in his hand. Maggie eyed it as he wrapped her hand around the hilt; his covering it. "You need to know how to use this."

Turning the blade towards his own stomach he began to instruct her on how to use it. Making her practice the motions over and over again, showing her how to sheath the blade and draw it again.

She was his wife and he intended her to learn to handle weapons; that she should know how to defend herself. It was not a skill that was going to come easily to her, the blade made her nervous.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

He stayed home for a day and half driving his wife crazy before returning to work. The King was home and unhappily dealing with matters of state, he was glad it was the Cardinal and not him as the driving force behind making the King attend to business.

Spending the afternoon listening to the King complain about how unfair his responsibilities were. There was of course still negotiations with Spain regarding the Navy and colonies that the King wanted, in his opinion the royal mostly wanted it because he had been told he couldn't have it. Listening to Richelieu work to convince the King away from defying Spain, Treville wondered whether or not the man understood the war that would ensue if France were to defy their ally.

When court wrapped for the day and the King had once again been talked down from defying Spain, in favor of renegotiating a trade pact that would increase the commodities flowing into French ports; and increase the taxes they collected. France and Spain stood as the two most powerful nations in Europe, the peace between their nations had been forged by the marriage treaty between King Louis and Queen Anne; the Queen's brother sat on the Spanish throne.

But the peace was often tense, King Henry had fought hard for it and the cost had been steep; King Louis was to young to remember the war they nearly lost. The Spanish had several clauses in that treaty that the King chafed against, not realizing that Spain was also limited under the treaty.

Both countries attempted to influence the other, as well as the smaller nations along their borders, a careful operation mostly overseen by the Cardinal and the ambassadors and spies he ran. The Cardinal played the game in an underhanded way, Treville often wondered if an honest approach might see a more satisfying peace between the two nations.

It had occurred to him that one of the Cardinal's dealings gone wrong may have influenced someone to plot against the succession of the throne. Athos' search of the apothecaries had not turned up a long term patron purchasing the necessary herbs or remedies, which meant someone was growing and processing them; that took a certain set of skills.

Still, in his mind poison and an attack against the Queen, and her duty to her husband; somewhere in this was a woman. And one close to the Queen, hopefully pushed a step back with Constance's arrival; the two young women seemed to be growing close.

Arranging for Constance to come to the garrison in the evening Treville headed back himself. Riding through the market he picked out his wife at one of the stalls, she looked pretty in her blue dress, frowning he looked for a cadet. One thing he had been firm on was that his wife was to be escorted any time she was outside the garrison.

Drawing his reigns Treville angled towards her as someone else caught his attention. He was not the only person heading for Maggie, his wife was fumbling at her right side; Treville launched off his horse.

Pushing through people he caught up to the man who had grabbed his wife's arm; pulling her towards an alley. Why had she been out here alone? As the man tried to spin Maggie against the wall he caught the man by the back of the neck and forced him against the stone and the blade he held clattered into the street; his wife sliding to the side.

"Your hands do not belong on what belongs to me." He snarled, driving his fit into the man's back.

"She belongs to my master and we both know it. Little whore doesn't need to keep breathing." The man choked, clearly not realizing how foolish it was to provoke him. "Think she just cries because you take her..."

His knee had the man sliding slack against the wall, choking on any more words he had; one of de Vaunn's men. "Yet he laid no claim. But I did, before the King of France I proved she is mine; your master doesn't have a leg to stand on. If my wife is bothered again I will take a personal interest in your master's business until I find something the King needs to know."

His foot slammed into the back of the man's knee; the leg would be useless for some time. As the man slumped against the wall Treville knelt and lifted Maggie into his arms. He wasn't surprised, from what he had learned de Vaunn was a cold and controlling man, Maggie escaping his grasp and punishment would infuriate him. And the threat of a trial still loomed as far as de Vaunn and Maggie's father knew.

"Why did you come to the market alone?" He lifted Maggie onto the horse's back, searching her eyes for an answer, holding her jaw and eying the bruise already blooming there.

"I didn't." She stared at the front of the saddle as he mounted behind her.

His eyes roved the street until he spotted the cadet, his back to the street and oblivious to what had happened as paid attention to a girl. Disgusted Treville turned for the garrison, perhaps at some point he would realize Maggie was gone but when the cadet returned to the garrison Treville would be there.

In the yard he swung down and lifted Maggie down after him. "I have questions Maggie, go upstairs."

He tended his horse and waited in the yard, watching his men training. Athos and D'Artagnan practised with swords, experience honing the younger man's talent into practiced skill. Once, years ago he had trained Athos in much the same way; this was the way the musketeers were meant to be. Some men were just not cut out for this life, they might be soldiers but they were not musketeers; not brothers in arms.

He sat on the bench with his men and waited, the cadet would slink back eventually. Winded D'Artagnan came to sit with them, Athos opened his arms; inviting a challenge. When none of the men rose Athos shrugged and sheathed his sword.

It had been some time since they had trained together, when Athos had arrived at the garrison he had the talent but not the discipline. A wealthy young man turned to life as a soldier, running from the life he had known. His upbringing gave him a unique perspective and a quick mind for politics; he grew into a fine musketeer. One of the best in his command, if sometimes he was irritating.

"I'll take you up on that offer someday soon." He told Athos as the man joined them at the table. Aramis and his wife would likely skin him if he tried today.

"I look forward to it." Athos smiled at that.

Constance walked through the gates, smiling to the men on guard; he rose to meet her. "Inform me when Durand returns."

Taking Constance up the stairs Treville drew his sword and a blade; setting both on his desk. "Are you carrying a weapon?"

She produced one from her inside her skirts and he nodded; it was best her weapon was concealed at all times. "It's not much but I don't think it would be taken well if I started wearing a sword."

"No, but in the palace that should be all you need if you know how to use it." Treville placed himself in front of her. "Attack."

Constance stepped forward, pointing the weapon towards his gut. "No."

He corrected the angle, showing her to drive it up into the rib cage; he was giving Maggie very similar training. A dagger could be more deadly than a sword if used correctly. In the palace the greatest risk came from blades. A sword or dagger could kill silently, pistols made noise and drew attention; in the palace there were guards everywhere.

Treville made Constance repeat the movements over and over again; teaching her to counter an attack from the front and side. She was a woman and she was strong, though she would never have strength on her side in a fight; she needed skill.

"Forget propriety, get close to your opponent, and do not give them space to attack you." Treville caught her arm to prove his point and used his weight to shove her back. "If you can't get your weapon you can't fight. If you are threatened do not hesitate, you protect the Queen."

"But what about the Queen?" Constance asked, again lunging forward as he stepped to the side.

"Instruct her to back away, in the palace you are not alone; make noise and draw help." He caught the hilt, again adjusting the angle up.

Treville didn't keep her too long, D'Artagnan had taught her the very basics of weaponry; he wanted her to learn a small but specific set of skills. They had begun today but he didn't want to overwhelm her. It was better to practice a few skills and build on them over time, she would remember them.

"You are good at that, at teaching." Maggie murmured as he watched Constance head down the stairs.

"I haven't much experience in teaching women to fight." In truth he was out of his depth in teaching both of them, there was a fine line between teaching them what they needed to know and scaring them.

However as Athos rose he had something he knew how to deal with, and glancing towards the gate he took the steps. "Durand."

The young man stopped, his eyes widened. "Captain."

He shook his head when the young man began to speak. "If you cannot watch my wife how do you suppose to defend the King and Queen?"

"I looked for her." The young man kicked at the dirt.

For a moment Treville just stared at him, there was nothing more to say. He would not order the boy to leave, he wouldn't humiliate him like that; but he suspected that was what the boy would choose. He didn't have the discipline to learn to fight as the musketeers did nor the level of loyalty to his brothers he would need. It wasn't uncommon for men to wash out of training, but he knew it would be a hard thing for the young man to accept.

…

She brought him a cup of wine at his desk, he had been quiet since he came up from the yard. Maggie had watched him teach Constance, he would probably want her to practice the motions as well tonight.

His hand wrapped around her wrist. "We need to talk Maggie."

His chair scraped back, she didn't hesitate, lowering herself into his lap as his hand spread across her back. When his hand wrapped around her hip she eased close. It surprised her that she enjoyed his touch, he offered his cup and she took a sip of wine.

"Athos was out of line to question you." He sipped the wine, but he did not meet her eyes; he didn't want to ask.

"I'll answer your questions. I answered his." Athos' opinion mattered but his mattered much more. "I am not with child Jean, I know that, but I do not know what my father was doing; what he hoped to gain from me."

"I know that." She felt his mouth press to her cheek, easing into his touch. "But I want to know what they did to you."

Maggie swallowed hard. She didn't want to talk about it, or think about it. Yet she also knew that eventually he would ask, and she had to answer him. A woman wasn't supposed to have to tell her husband something like this, he was supposed to be the first. She wasn't supposed to dread doing her duty to her husband.

"I was sixteen, the betrothal was announced, but the wedding never came. He never left, he told me I had to do my duty to him." She murmured, hoping he didn't ask for any more detail.

He was quiet, his hand tightened and when she risked a look at his face; blue eyes were saddened. Maggie took the cup and drank, hoping to steady her nerves, she couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Maggie, your father never pressed the marriage forward?" She felt his breath against her neck.

"No, I don't think he cared; he had business." It just wasn't important enough to him.

His fingers traced along her neck. "Maggie what they did to you was not right; that is not how it is with us. It will not hurt you."

"I'm sorry but on that I disagree, I don't see how it is possible." She was not innocent on that matter, he was a decent man but there was no way for what he said to be done; she knew it well enough.

His palm rested on her thigh, even as his cheek rested against her neck, his closeness made her body tighten. "Let me show you Maggie, as your husband."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

He rose slowly, he didn't want to wake her but he was starting to enjoy watching her sleep; and when she woke she wouldn't rest until night. He had been a married man for little more than a week, but as he convinced her she was safe he was seeing a different woman than the terrified wife he brought home without knowing her name. Treville hadn't planned on marrying her but he certainly did not regret it.

Easing his body around hers he reached for his breeches, and then the rest of his uniform and checked his pistol before hooking it onto his belt. The sound must have woke her as Maggie rolled, swiping her hair out of her face before starting to push herself up; giving him a rather enjoyable view.

"Good morning." He murmured, watching for a moment as she grabbed her shift, Treville leaned in for a taste of her before giving her space to pull it over her head.

"Morning, I will get you some breakfast." And she was up, he paused as she pulled her corset on; he reached for the laces. Carefully pulling them snug, letting the laces hang down her skirts.

He lit a lantern and crossed to his desk as she turned to stoke the fire. Turning his attention to the palace records he had requested, and was slowly going through, hoping to find connections between the staff and enemies of the King. The problem was the King had many enemies.

What was frustrating was he was in and around the palace regularly for the entire time in question and had suspected nothing until by chance his wife had drawn his attention to it. Treville had narrowed the list of suspects considerably but he had no proof against anyone.

There were two ladies in waiting who had been with the Queen since she arrived in France; and one who had come with her from her home. His instincts said it was a woman, but women in the palace were common; the King enjoyed looking at women.

And today all would be present, including many nobles who claimed to be allies of the King. The King's banquet would be widely attended by many with political agendas that they hoped would not come to the King's attention. It wasn't so many years that some of them had aligned themselves with someone else; only pledging their loyalty again when the coup failed.

Only a few months again the same woman had tried again with another ploy for the throne. It was the lack of an heir that made that attempt possible. King Louis had several siblings, and half siblings all with weak but valid claims to the throne; and reasons to hope there would not be an heir.

The problem with the nobility was they were all interrelated; damn inbred. He was looking for one connection but had dozen's to sort through. Maggie set a plate beside him and headed back to the table, to her own. With a sigh he picked it up and rose, crossing to the table to join her.

"When I'm home Maggie I want to eat with you."

"You were working." She looked slightly embarrassed as he watched her for a moment.

"It's good Mags." Her cooking always was, but it was worth saying it to see her face light up. "I'll be at the palace late tonight, don't try to wait up for me."

…

She watched Jean get ready for the King's event, exchanging his coat for his armor and tying the cloak across his shoulder. She thought he looked handsome in his uniform, but he caught her staring, his face revealed nothing before he crossed and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

He would be gone all day, which would give her some time to go down and work with Serge. If she could teach him to cook a little better, her husband's men might not show up at the door every time their Captain left. Aramis was the worst, he thought he was a charmer.

Serge was a sweet old man, a veteran who had finished his career with the musketeers. They kept him on as cook and he lived in the garrison but cooking was not his strength. The garrison kitchen was dark and dingy, she had spent a good part of the last two days cleaning it. Her husband's quarters were small and required minimal maintenance, which was a good thing as getting this kitchen in good shape was going to take work.

"You work too hard Maggie." Serge commented as she scrubbed down the soot stained walls.

"A clean kitchen is a start." If Evelyn ever saw this kitchen the cook who had been like a mother to Maggie she would have hurt someone. When she lifted a bin something skittered across the floor; Maggie jumped back. "What was that?"

"Rat, we've got a few. I'll take care of it." Serge hobbled after the rat, she didn't like his chances at catching it. Rats in a kitchen were never a good thing, she knew one solution for it.

"Madame Treville." It took her a moment to turn, she was still getting used to that. "Someone at the gate for you."

She frowned and turned to follow the cadet out into the yard. Evelyn sat on the bench, Maggie gasped and wrapped her arms around the older woman; holding her tight. "A musketeer Maggie?"

"He's a good man."

"Did they hurt you?" Evelyn's hand touched her shoulder lightly.

"No, but they whipped him." It was the first time she'd had to admit it to someone. And she led Evelyn up to the room she shared with her husband she talked about her marriage for the first time.

…

Never sure if he should be glad when the King's functions went smoothly or bored out of his skull. Treville scanned the hall, watching that his men kept their posts and remained attentive; but spent most of his time studying the crowd.

Servants flowed in and out of the room, people swirled and moved making it hard to track anyone. He was posted near the head table, Constance eased up next to him. "It was in her wine."

"When?" That caught his attention, now he had a narrow list; someone involved was here tonight.

"Earlier tonight. I switched the cups but I have no idea who put it out; it was there when she sat down." It was easy to see that Constance was upset.

"Relax, the Queen didn't get it. You did well." And now he knew at least someone involved was here tonight. "Stay with the Queen. Get Athos if you have any concerns."

As the young woman nodded Treville motioned Athos to take over his post. He moved to explore the corridors leading to and from the main hall, watching the faces that passed bringing bottles and trays to and from the banquet.

The culprit wouldn't move again tonight, he hadn't seen Constance switch the cups; that meant it was likely no one else had. He studied faces, trying to put them to names he had read earlier this morning.

The event went late, he saw more than one person who had drank a little more than they should have. It was nearly midnight before he made it back to the garrison and found Maggie sprawled across the bed; for the first time in hours he smiled; it would be good to hold her tonight.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Now he had a list, and somewhere to finally start. He knew at least one party in the scheme had been present last night. But there had been over two hundred guests there last night; and an army of servants to attend them.

It was a type of poison, it was a coward's weapon but those who used it were patient and sneaky. This time it had paid off, for who knew how long given the Queen had not born a child in all the years she had been here.

Today the palace would be quiet, after the festivities royals would rest. Treville had no such plans, after an event like that today would be a busy one for the servants; he'd be sending Athos' unit to ask some questions.

"You should sleep a bit longer." Sitting on the edge of the bed he felt Maggie's hands rubbing down his back, her fingers traced the new scars. This made it somewhat more difficult to get out of bed.

"I've got to work." He needed to get some answers soon. It had been late when he got home and her invitation was tempting. "I need to close this investigation. Treason is a constant threat to the throne, someone realizes I'm looking then murder may become a viable option."

Still he was pleased that she was reaching for him; her hands ran gentle paths up and down his back. Her palm crept around his side, exploring his body, how far was she going to go? Treville kept his body still, looking down to find her watching him just as carefully.

"I like that Mags." He didn't want to stop her or discourage her, but soon his men would be up; he couldn't be up here in bed. "We'll make it an early night."

With a sigh he pushed himself to his feet and reached for his shirt, for an arranged marriage Maggie was a good match for him; more than he could have hoped for. Maggie rose with him, he listened as she set to work in the kitchen.

Taking the stairs quickly he found the four looking tired as they surfaced; they had probably indulged a little after the assignment last night. It had been a relatively quiet stretch for this unit the last few weeks and that meant the men were restless.

Word had come last night, some of their comrades had not had such a peaceful stretch, it would be hitting home for some of the cadets; his commissioned men had accepted the risks of soldiering. There were a few who he figured would withdraw their applications after losing men who they had looked up to; who had mentored them.

It was tempting to assign a cadet to Athos' unit, D'Artagnan had worked out well. The men were inseparable, they spent hours training together, able to anticipate each other's moves in battle. They were one of the best units under his command, Athos was the informal leader; and a good teacher.

"Head up to the palace, get some details about the banquet; and think about which cadet you want to train." Treville told Athos, considering the last part himself.

"Last one sort of signed himself up." Athos smirked, they both remembered how D'Artagnan had joined the regiment. Treville remembered all to well how the kid got his commission; his shoulder still ached sometimes. "I picked my mentor."

"Didn't give me much choice." He shook his head, the young man had been in a dark place when he came to join the regiment.

In all his years with the regiment he had taken on very few cadets to mentor. He oversaw the training of all of them, but the men trained each other; it was what made the units so tight. Athos had been different, a little older than most applicants and running from himself, the regiment had lost many men while Athos had been in training.

But the man was right, most cadets found a mentor they connected with; in one way or another. Usually one man was the base of the unit, Athos and Aramis had connected as Aramis recovered from his mission in Savoy; both needed a unit. Porthos had joined within the year, he'd had some trouble at first but the two had taken to him; and the man knew how to fight. Three very different men became brothers; musketeers.

Treville watched the four men leave and returned to his desk. Some days it felt like too much of his job was paperwork. He turned and opened the palace records, he had the list from those working last night now; he was getting closer.

This list had narrowed to four, two of the women had been in the Queen's service long enough. However two more had interesting ties to past servants and other members of the King's family. His mind kept returning to the method of poison, not to kill but to prevent an heir; with no heir the King had no choice but to make a family member a successor.

And in that case every single one of them had motive. He would find the person in the palace, but he needed to trace it back to the real culprit. However all involved would pay a hefty price, the cardinal would see to that.

"Think Marie de Medici is trying again?" Aramis sprawled in the chair across from him, Athos and Porthos leaned against the wall.

"The fact she already has tried with a different ploy moves her down on my list." Treville admitted, however he wouldn't put a long con past that woman. "However I wouldn't put anything past that woman."

Still he thought it would be someone younger, a sibling or one of the King's many half siblings. The King was still a young man, and that would mean any hope for the throne was a plot against the King.

"That doesn't exactly narrow it down. We've a pretty good idea of who's in the palace; now we need to find the other players." Treville sighed, the others nodded in agreement, if they didn't find the other players before they were forced to give up the player who likely knew the least it was likely the others would disappear.

They all eased back as Maggie set a plate on desk between them, his men's eyes lit up as they reached for the food. "Thanks Maggie."

"You're spoiling them again Mags." Treville murmured, taking a bun before they all disappeared; remembering his promise to make it an early night.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

She had heard through the grape vine that the musketeers had made an arrest in the threat against her. In part she was pleased but she knew from the faces of the men the matter was not done, the musketeer regiment had turned the young woman over to the Cardinal but they did not believe she was the first person to be involved; she hadn't been employed in the palace long enough.

Her husband however was pleased, he was perhaps the only one in the room not looking at the larger picture. Anne waited in the corridor for the musketeers to leave. "Captain Treville."

"Yes Majesty." The man stopped, a nod of his head had the others continuing to trail after the King.

"I believe you promised me the company of your wife. I would like her to join us today." She hoped the new marriage was going well, but she wanted to get to know the man's wife.

"I am sure Maggie will be honored." Treville dipped his head before continuing. There were very few people around her who were genuine, she was willing to push to make friends with people who were.

Anne watched the musketeer go before turning away and giving instructions for tea to be arranged for three. Her ladies may not be pleased but she had no interest in games or snide gossip today, they would not be invited. She picked a pretty sun room to sit and visit with Constance until Maggie Treville arrived.

The Captain's wife looked around nervously as she was announced. Anne smiled as she dismissed the guard, Constance greeted Maggie with a hug but seemed nervous around her. Nervous, but no longer the shaking leaf of a thing Treville had brought home from that court.

As they visited Anne worked to draw her out, the young woman was shy but kind. Anne suspected she was well on her way to falling in love with her new husband, and it was no wonder that he was fond of her. Maggie had brought a small pack of sweet buns, Constance had evidently had her baking before but it could rival some of the palace's cooking; and she had done it with much more limited ingredients.

"These are really good." She commented, seeing the young woman flush a little at the compliment.

"I learned the recipe from my family's cook, I spent a lot of time with her as a kid." Maggie explained, sipping her tea.

They chatted, it was relaxing and Anne felt herself easing into the conversation without games or agendas. These two were content to visit, and for once she didn't feel like people wanted something from her.

She wasn't paying attention as both women rose, Maggie turned away from them and suddenly Constance was in front of her. Peering around Constance, Anne gasped a red guard had pulled a gun, Maggie was pushing his arm up. Shocked she watched as the musketeer's wife struggled with the man, a blade sliding from her skirts.

She jumped as the pistol fired, Constance was yelling and suddenly the man collapsed on top of Maggie. The door flung open and the musketeers rushed in. Treville was in front of her in a moment and Athos nearly collided with him.

The two men stood hip to hip, swords in one hand and pistols in the other, peering around them she saw Porthos go to the man. Just as quickly the collapsed man went flying back and Treville took a faltering step back as the musketeer helped Maggie to her feet.

"I, I didn't mean…" The young woman was in tears and Anne had to swipe her own away as she watched the woman look around almost lost.

Slowly she rose, trying not to shake, but she didn't push Constance's hands away as the woman steadied her. Anne watched Maggie launch herself into her husband's arms, the man wrapped an arm around her even as he held his sword in the other.

"Please I didn't mean to hurt him." The woman curled into her husband's chest. "I didn't kill him did I?"

"What is she babbling?" The men seemed to relax as weapons were put away, the Cardinal followed the King into the room, and Anne sighed at her husband's comment.

"Sire I believe she is in shock." The Cardinal spoke and the King nodded; as if just beginning to understand what every other person in the room had realized.

"He's not dead." Porthos spoke, but she saw the look he exchanged with the musketeers; a more accurate statement might be he wasn't dead yet. "He's a red guard."

"No, he's not part of our unit." One of the guards knelt over him.

"Take a head count, find out if anyone is missing." The Cardinal paused and than added another order. "And question him."

Knowing the Cardinal that man wouldn't live long whether he answered questions or not. It took a few moments for the musketeers to handle the situation, Treville kept his wife tucked against his side; Anne didn't get a chance to speak to her again.

…

A fight had never made his heart jump the way it did when he realized it was Maggie pinned beneath that man. His first instinct was to go to her, but his duty was to defend the Queen; it was Porthos who picked up his wife.

She had fit herself against his chest and stayed there until he lifted her up and set her on the horse in front him. Treville left his horse to the stable boy and carried Maggie up the stairs with him.

"You gave me a start." Gently he set her on her feet and wrapped his arms around her; pressing his face to her cheek. "I love you Mags."

"I love you too." She whispered, looking at him with wide eyes.

He kissed her gently before stepping back. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Unless she had any tricks the skirts were going to be stained, and this was her first chance to wear it, he locked the door and carefully removed the dress. Maggie shifted uncomfortably as he removed her shift, he paused as he noticed the empty sheath strapped to her thigh.

Bruises already bloomed along her right side, the man had been considerably larger than her. Blood had soaked into her clothes and stained her skin, he rubbed the discoloration away and held out the clean shift. Maggie pulled it over her head and curled right back against him. "Please hold me for a minute."

"Of course." There was little more he wanted right now. With Maggie pressed against him Treville relaxed, running his hands up and down her back. "You did well Mags."

"He was pointing a pistol at her." Maggie murmured, he felt her fingers splay across his chest.

"I know, we heard the shot." And had come running. "Maggie never hesitate, if someone is going after the Queen, killing a soldier's wife won't phase them."

"Okay." She whispered. "At least he wasn't a soldier."

"Don't count on that Mags." Treville warned. "The Cardinal, and most men will lie with every other breath to advance their own agenda."

He didn't believe the man for one moment, whether or not the assassin had been a red guard or not Treville didn't believe he had been acting on the Cardinal's orders; the reaction had been real. The move had been impulsive and reckless, whether or not the Cardinal was involved he couldn't be sure. But that move hadn't been sanctioned by the upper level of any member in a group patient enough for an operation working inside the palace for years.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

He watched Maggie settle at the table; she was still shaky. It would take some time for her to handle this, and he didn't know what that was going to take. It was going to take him some time to handle it too, Treville had never anticipated that his marriage would force him to choose between her and his duty to his country; yet today he had. Taking the stairs down to the yard, he found Aramis and Porthos were holding the bench down while Athos and D'Artagnan faced off; both stopped as he approached.

"Maggie's cooking, come up for dinner later." Before she was done there would be enough for an army.

"Thought we weren't supposed to be spoiled." Aramis quipped, he fixed the younger man with a glare.

"Maggie doesn't need to know the wound was fatal." Given it was safe to assume the Cardinal had sped the process along a bit. He would give her some time before they reviewed her technique.

"She did well with minimal training." Athos answered behind him, the man sheathed his sword as D'Artagnan dropped onto the bench next to Aramis. "What tipped her?"

"Heard the click, he primed it, she is used to hearing it in the morning." He paused, hand resting on his own sword, he knew how train a warrior.

Maggie had the basic understanding of how to use a dagger, she was agile and young. There was no way to know whether she had any raw talent with a sword or not, she'd probably never held one. Constance had done well, but she hadn't needed too much sword training; she couldn't conceal it in the palace. He didn't worry too much about roles, had no problem with his wife knowing how to fight; or carry a sword.

Treville continued across the yard, dispatching units to question the cousin of the servant they had arrested this morning and several others who had previously worked at the palace. When he came back he paused to watch Athos best Aramis. The musketeer held out his arms in an invitation to the cadets; none stepped forward.

In a real fight he knew the younger man would end him, and having trained him there was a certain pride in that. Drawing his sword Treville stepped forward, in his prime they would have been a fair match.

Athos nodded, a half smirk on his face as their swords touched; and then it was on. They circled each other dodging and jabbing, he forced Athos to work around him and take low shots; he knew the man preferred to work high.

After a few moments they were both breathing hard, Athos jabbed forward and took him out at the knees. Treville countered and sent the man hard to the right as he tried to regain his feet, glancing up he saw that Maggie was on the balcony watching.

Again they faced off, he heard some of the comments from the cadets watching. For that alone he wasn't willing to give up yet. Treville blocked a blow and countered, Athos lost his footing but blocked just in time.

They knew each other's moves well, he knew how to throw the younger man off; but Athos knew the same about him. Blocking one blow he switched sword hands and caught Athos from the other side, it caught the man off guard and their sword's locked. Calculating his chances Treville dropped and stepped left, Athos' slipped forward, reaching out to break his fall.

Chest heaving he straightened his arm, extending the sword so the tip touched his soldier's back. Athos nodded and rolled, sheathing his sword Treville held out a hand to the man. Aramis held out a cup, he took a drink and passed it off to Athos.

He left the men to their jokes and took the stairs up to where his wife watched. "I thought you might kill each other."

"No." Putting an arm around her he turned her back into the room. "No, we've done that many times. Its how you learn to use a sword."

"You are good at it." Her cooking smelled incredible, she went to check the pot on the stove before turning back to him; coming back to him.

"I want you to learn to use a sword." Her hand rested on his chest, he covered it with his. "I want you to be able to defend yourself."

"I know how to use a blade." She smiled at him, her body pressed against him.

"I am thankful that you do." Treville wrapped his arms around her. "I told them they could come up for supper."

"Good." She grinned, and turned back towards the stove.

Not long after his quarters were full, all the musketeers in the garrison had piled in for his wife's cooking. There was noise and laughter as his men ate, Maggie flitted about ensuring everyone had enough to eat until he pulled her down to sit on his knee.

"Eat something Mags." He murmured, it wasn't as if she hadn't piled enough food on his plate. The woman didn't seem to have an issue with managing a budget or a household; but she could make it stretch.

"This is nice." She murmured, her cheek nuzzling into his shoulder; the noise in the room enough to cover her words. "It's like having a family."

"We are a family Mags, we'll make it bigger soon enough." Gently he kissed her cheek, he hadn't thought he would have a wife; or truly want a family.

"You do remember you are entitled to actual quarter's Captain. Not just a corner of your office." Aramis commented, he fixed the soldier sitting next to him with a glare. "Not like we don't have space. The south rooms have been empty for years."

He just shook his head, he had never expected to have a family, let alone consider raising one in the garrison. Yet there wasn't a safer place in France than the musketeers' home base, and with the demands of the regiment he could hardly move out of it.

The south rooms had been empty so long for the primary reason that none of the men really wanted to live in adjoined rooms. It was an apartment of sorts that was part of the original building; before it was remodeled into the garrison.

The cadets lived off site, receiving rooms upon being commissioned, the other soldiers picked their rooms. It had always seemed simpler for him to live in the office when it was just him. But with Maggie maybe he needed to consider his options sooner rather than later.

Later, when they had cleaned up from supper Maggie sat next to him, her hand tucked into his. "I'm happy here Jean, we don't need more space."

"It would give us some privacy. And really the office shouldn't be our home." He smiled a little as he glanced around; he was beginning to think of something different. "Aramis is right, by rank alone I have the right to proper quarters; you should have some sort of home."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

The rooms needed a good cleaning, a trio of adjoined rooms on the second level. But in time it would be nice enough, it would be their home. Maggie started her second day of cleaning.

Jean had been spending a lot of time at the palace since the arrest, she wanted to have the quarters ready for them soon. As the Cardinal had executed both of his suspect and without any new leads he was frustrated. Evelyn had come yesterday and today she and her daughter had stopped by; it had cost her more time than she planned on.

While Evelyn was a sweet woman Maggie had never been as fond of her daughter; or her husband. She had been surprised Emmalyn Moreau had come out with her mother to visit, they had never been particularly close.

When the pair finally left she headed back into the corridor and up to their rooms. The small kitchen and living room were done, as was the first bedroom. Jean wanted the second room left empty until they had a child; for now he wanted the space for her to learn to use a sword.

Hopefully work would keep him busy enough to put that off for a time, Maggie wasn't sure she wanted to see a sword. She hadn't been entirely sure Jean and Athos wouldn't do serious damage to each other a few days ago.

Working in the second room she was nearly finished when she heard footsteps behind her. Hands smoothed over her sides, Jean stepped around her looking around. "It looks good in here Mags."

"I'm just about done, everything but this room is done; I asked some of the cadets to bring the furniture down." Turning she set the rags aside.

"I'll take care of it." Jean circled the room, and crossed to the room that was going to be their bedroom, Maggie shadowed him as he looked at the few things she had already brought down.

Over the next hour Maggie watched as he moved the furniture from the office across to their new rooms; and then returned to his work. She started supper, the new stove here was bigger but she missed having Jean working at the desk across the room.

When the door opened and shut sharply she turned; Jean looked irritated. "Supper's almost ready."

"Maggie, there is a dead rat in the corridor; and a cat in our quarters." He looked slightly disgusted. "It was not there before."

"I'm sorry, Evelyn brought him today. He was kind of mine, he is a good hunter and he will keep the rats down." She had completely forgot about him after putting him in the stable this morning; she had wanted to get back to work. "I'm sorry Jean."

…

Stepping on the rat had been one thing, seeing the cat another; but they were only distractions from the real reason he had come up here. Seeing her face as she glanced from the cat to him gave him a different distraction.

"Please keep it in the yard when you aren't in here." He sighed, the cat was a much easier problem than the one he needed to discuss with her. "It doesn't hurt to keep the rats down."

He was edgy enough after dealing with the reports from the units that had returned tonight, one report had been bad but the problem he had was with the one that was vague. He could yell at his men when they disgusted him but he wouldn't do that to Maggie; it had been a precarious couple weeks earning her trust.

And he didn't believe Maggie would intentionally be involved in anything dangerous or underhanded. But she could be naïve to things happening around her; especially when she was used to harsh voices and a slap in response to almost everything. Slowly she was becoming used to words, but he had to watch himself; he was used to soldiers.

It was the report from the gatekeeper that he really had to ask about. Treville had been surprised to learn that the sister in law of the woman he had arrested and the Cardinal had executed was visiting his wife in the garrison today. "How do you know Emmalyn Moraeu?"

"Evelyn's daughter?" Maggie looked at him, confusion evident in her on her face. "She stopped by today with her mum."

He had heard her mention Evelyn several times before; the woman had been like a mother to Maggie. Treville had not been aware that there was any connection to the Moraeu's, a family previously a strong ally of the Medicis. It seemed DeVaunn had numerous underground connections.

"Maggie, what do you know about Evelyn's daughter?" He dropped into one of the chairs he had hauled up earlier this afternoon.

"Not much, we weren't close. She's been married for about five years." Maggie still looked somewhat confused, but she approached and when her hand touched his shoulder he covered it with his. How much of this should he tell her? "What's wrong Jean?"

If he pressed the issue he might create a problem while she was still coping with the mishap at the palace last week. There was the possibility that it was an innocent coincidence, no one had no way to how much he had grown to care for his wife; their marriage was simply a solution to a situation the King had found a distasteful. It had become much more than that in a short time.

"Maggie what do you know about the Moraeus?" He wasn't willing to pry into her family, any information there he would find out on his own. But the Moraeu's were of no relation as far as he knew, and she didn't seem to be close to the woman.

"They did some business with my father, Evelyn's husband too; he is not an understanding man. Some of it wasn't in France, I don't know much about it Jean." But the fear was evident on her face, she was still nervous of his reactions some times; and he was not asking her about pleasant memories.

"At this point anything helps, we've disrupted their set up, and it will be quiet for a little while." And it was the best time to look for all involved parties, they were off guard and scrambling. But there were many possibilities to follow up. And he was sending Athos' unit out to ask some questions, the men would get some answers.

He sighed and pulled her down into his lap, it was past time to let it go for the day; and perhaps redirect the investigation a bit in the morning. She fit against his chest, her weight a comfort that was becoming very familiar.

"Let's have supper Mags." Perhaps it was a good thing to have quarters beyond his office, an actual place to step away to.

She rose and turned to the stove, he rose and roamed through the space; this was their new home. Maggie had scrubbed it top to bottom and the few things they had were set up in the room they would share. He smirked, she had made their bed and hung things on the hooks; in the space of two weeks she had moved twice.

"Supper is ready." Treville couldn't deny it was satisfying to feel her hand press to the small of his back, she was confident enough to touch him. They'd had a difficult conversation but she didn't flinch away from him, she knew he wouldn't hurt her and that was satisfying for him.

He had to be careful not to allow the hate he felt for her father to direct his investigation, the man was an animal but he had not connected the man; hadn't proven guilt. And this investigation was complicated.

They sat across from each other and ate, it was becoming a comfortable routine for him. When they finished Maggie cleared the plates and began to work around by the stove. Treville rose and crossed to her, his hands sliding to her hips. "Come sit with me Maggie."

He pulled two of the chairs from table across to the window but as he sat Maggie eased closer; he smiled and guided her down into his lap. Trailing his fingers through her hair, he breathed in her scent. He spent a great deal of his time working between organizing operations and the palace, and Maggie worked hard here; they needed to take time together.

"Tell me how you came to have a cat." There were so many things about her he still didn't know.

Her cheeks flushed a little before she began to tell the story, the rather pudgy cat had been a runt rescued from a litter Maggie and her brother had stumbled upon. Evelyn had apparently kept the cat down in the kitchen for Maggie. And delivered it to her new home.

The family's cook seemed to be an interesting woman, it was also unusual for a business woman's wife to be a cook for another family; especially with children. From Maggie's stories the woman sounded like she knew how to care for a child. She had certainly been kind to a child without a mother, and the bond had evidently lasted.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

She smiled as she saw Maggie waiting in the sun room for them, in her pretty blue dress carefully patched with lace to hide the stain that hadn't come out of it. While they had assured the young woman Treville would not mind replacing the dress Maggie had refused to ask, and refused when Anne had offered herself as she might not be alive had Maggie not reacted quickly. She suspected the dress itself meant a little more to her than the woman let on. It had been one of the first things Maggie's husband had given her, before she came to trust him and Anne suspected before she began to love him.

Affection had grown in that arrangement the King had made and Anne couldn't help but be a little jealous of Maggie and Treville. Her marriage had also been arranged by a King, it had been made to secure peace between two countries and King Louis was always warm to her but there wasn't the bond between them she saw growing between the Musketeer Captain and her friend. They had teased a few details out of Maggie and Anne knew she wasn't alone in wishing her husband cared for her like that.

Louis was a charmer, but at the core he was a selfish man who had never had the chance to be a child; or never left the child behind. Her husband wanted her company when it suited him, and when he wanted to make a child. While not an altogether unpleasant task it was not the intimacy she saw in other couples, and she knew the pressure to have an heir weighed on them both.

It has been two long months since the musketeers had arrested the servant girl, she knew Treville and the Cardinal had disagreed, the first felt the woman had been executed before all information had been gained from her. Since then she knew the musketeers had been tracing leads as far as they could; but she had refused to replace the girl and kept Constance and Maggie close.

The two women were possibly the closest friends Anne had ever had, and yet so very different. Maggie Treville was quiet and shy, where as Constance was outspoken and refused to be cowed; no matter how hard her husband tried. In most circles Anne could say what she liked on privilege alone, and sometimes it was irritating.

Constance was not afraid to disagree with her, and Maggie had a very gentle way of voicing her own opinion, if you weren't listening you wouldn't realize she had a different view. It was refreshing and comforting, here she could relax for some time.

They all turned as the door opened, Captain Treville approached with his face grim. "Majesty, may I borrow Constance for a few moments? It is in regards to Monsieur Bonacieux."

Anne frowned, she had been clear with that man when he had bruised Constance's cheek on his last visit. His wife was in her service, and unless he wished to forfeit that position, a point that she had made clear would displease her,and end any hope of receiving palace business, he was to send word to his wife and not distract her.

Constance sighed as she rose, and followed the man out, Anne turned to Maggie and murmured her own observation. "I didn't know the Captain was close to her husband."

"I don't think Jean is." Maggie replied quickly, her face revealing she had an opinion too.

"Maggie!" They both turned as her husband called for her; his tone sharp.

As Maggie hurried to him Anne shadowed; something was not right. Treville leaned close to murmur to his wife, she stepped through the threshold and saw Maggie wrap her arms around Constance; the redhead looked stunned.

"What is going on?" Anne demanded, the man had stepped back to let his wife handle the shaken woman.

"Monsieur Bonacieux has been killed, musketeers were at the morgue on another matter and identified him." Treville's voice was calm, she knew he had delivered bad news many times before.

"Constance." She whispered, stepping forward, knowing the marriage may not have been happy but to loose her husband would be difficult.

"D'Artagnan and Aramis are investigating it. Constance may need some time to handle matters. Maggie can accompany you for as long as needed." Treville informed her even as Anne moved to put her arms around the woman.

That was likely not an easy commitment for the man to make but she didn't intend to turn him down. As Treville escorted Constance out Maggie hovered near her, seeming a little lost. Anne led the woman upstairs to show her a room off of her own quarters.

She watched Maggie gape at the room, Anne showed her the door that adjoined her own room and hoped that she would not have to use it. She wondered how long it would take for Maggie to realize how boring her life could be in the palace.

…

The palace was strange, full of customs and distant people with their own agendas. The women around the Queen looked at Maggie with contempt as she stayed close to the woman. She understood why the Queen was lonely, living in a beautiful place that seemed so empty. People were distant, or fake nice, Constance was much more suited for this, she was much better with people.

Afternoon rolled on, the Queen went down to observe the King's court, they sat to the side and listened to the proceedings; it was very different from the last court she had been in. Her husband stood across the room, his attention focused on the King as people moved around the room.

The day faded into evening, Maggie did her duty, ignoring the look she got and the fear she felt. She shadowed the Queen back to her rooms she eyed the men who took positions at the door; she wished it was Jean or the musketeers.

"Maggie, go to bed, I won't be back for a few hours; the King wants my company tonight." The Queen's eyes glinted as she murmured the words, she looked happy that her husband wanted her private company for a few hours.

What he would want to do did not need to be spoken, but the King and Queen spent very little time alone together. It was sad Maggie thought that they would only spend the time it took to try and make a child in the same bed.

As she looked around the room she had been given she felt uncomfortable, this one room was the size of their entire apartment at the garrison. Maggie roamed around it feeling lonely herself, it she was at home she would be busy. Jean would still be working but she would have meals to prepare, any of the musketeers who weren't busy would be lurking to see if she had made sweet rolls, something she had to do almost daily now.

The men liked the treats she made but they had nothing on what the palace made, but Maggie would never try to buy the ingredients they used here. Generally she spent her afternoons helping Serge prep the men's meals, and then cooked for Jean, he preferred to eat late. When he came home to eat he was done for the night and he would be in for the night.

When Jean was home he did his best to be home but the job he did stayed with him, and over time he had began to share elements of it with her. Maggie knew he was careful what he told her, she knew it was to protect her but that talking it out helped him to think. And for Maggie it was satisfying, her husband trusted her and chose to spend time with her; it was strange to be alone tonight.

She jumped when the door creaked open, there were people everywhere in the palace and guards beyond the door near hers; men she didn't know or trust. Her palm wrapped around the dagger strapped to her thigh as she approached the door.

A hand wrapped around her wrist as she turned to corner and came face to face with Jean. "Good instincts Mags."

"Hi." She murmured, pleased as his hand slid to her hip; she couldn't deny the thrill she felt that he was here or the surprise. She had assumed that he would be going home. "You are here."

"I don't want you alone in here." Jean stepped around her, she knew he was scanning the room and making himself comfortable.

"Is there any news on Constance's husband?" She knew his men would be working on it, and she knew one would have a special interest in this; though perhaps not for the dead man.

"As much as there will be." He sighed and dropped onto the edge of the bed, glancing back at it he frowned and shifted; reaching for her. "D'Artagnan has arrested the man who murdered Monsieur Bonacieux, he will be tried in the morning."

"Is there any more to it?"

"I don't know. But I don't want to take any chances. One thing that this accomplishes is Constance is away. She is safe, D'Artagnan is with her; and he won't be leaving her alone." His voice was soothing and his hand rubbed up and down her back; he thought something else might be going on.

His hands were gentle as he pulled her back against his frame, his chin resting on her shoulder. Maggie snuggled there, her mind drifting back to Anne; the woman who looked so pleased to be summoned to her husband's bed. Perhaps if the King hadn't interfered she might not feel the same about marriage, she hadn't when she was betrothed. But it wasn't just the act of making love that bonded a couple together, at least it wasn't for her.

It was when he trusted her and talked to her, when he reached for her without thinking. The act of joining was only a part of her marriage, and it was a part they enjoyed, but what surrounded it was more. She loved it when Jean held her tightly, when his weight held her in place and he grumbled about crushing her.

"Will the Queen need you tonight?" Jean asked, she felt his fingers at the hem of her corset.

"No. She is with the King. Do you think she will mind if I have company tonight?" She didn't want him to leave, she had grown used to having him close; in truth she wouldn't sleep as well alone.

"She knows you will have company while you stay here. It won't be too long, Constance is eager to come back; a few days at most. Then we will be home."


	15. Chapter 15

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review. I hope you will continue to let me know what you think. Sorry for the wait.

 **Chapter Fifteen**

"Have you enjoyed your stay in the palace?" The Queen asked, her voice held a teasing tone as they walked through the gardens. "Apart from the ladies."

"Of course, it is so different from the garrison." Maggie murmured, in truth she missed the garrison and the work she did there; her home. But staying at the palace had not been bad, it was different, it gave her insight into why the Queen felt the way she did. The Queen's ladies however hated her, and the Queen revealed felt the same about Constance.

"And you and your husband? Perhaps a babe will come from it." The Queen grinned at her as Maggie felt her entire face flush.

"I don't know." In truth she had shared her bed with her husband but romance had not entered their chamber the past three nights; Jean considered himself at work and slept very little. "I do hope we will have a child."

"I am hoping the same. And soon, the King is desperate for an heir, but I just want a baby. I know motherhood may be difficult at times but it will be so busy. A son for my husband's line but perhaps if I am blessed a daughter too, a little one I can hold onto a bit longer." The teasing tone vanished from her voice and Maggie thought it had been replaced with one of longing.

"I hope you will have both, many children to fill your home." Maggie promised, the Queen had a duty at every turn; giving her son and her husband an heir.

"Perhaps if our babes are close you will be nurse maid to mine. Then I do not need to worry if a maid would harm my babe." Queen Anne's had wrapped around hers, Maggie nodded, there were so many worries of bearing a child but to worry that others would try to harm it.

"Of course I would Majesty." In truth she would, she would do anything she could to protect the Queen and her baby. But she had no way to know when she would give Jean a child; or if the birth would allow her to serve the Queen in such a way.

Maggie turned as she heard someone approach, and smiled as Constance approached; they both moved to meet her. Queen Anne embraced the redhead tightly for a moment, when Maggie hesitated both women opened their arms and pulled her tightly to them.

"We are so glad you are back." Maggie smiled as they continued to walk together.

…

He would be glad to have Constance back at the Queen's side, the redhead actually enjoyed it where Maggie was stressed. His wife was on edge and bored, she was used to being busy around the garrison not being a companion to the Queen. However on the same note he was spending a lot more time in the palace and he was watching.

Treville knew the man who had committed the act of murder had been executed but he suspected there was much more at play; the problem was distinguishing whose game it was a part of. His first instinct was to blame the party who had not been able to place another spy in the palace as of yet, however there were other options.

The Cardinal was another, his games and lies were famous but he had been around for awhile. Treville knew Richelieu had his own agenda in this country, and that he had any number of political deals in the air at any time. And the man ran the French division of spies, and rumor had it that his hall was haunted.

Treville knew better, the Cardinal hated to be alone, he kept his pets close and he was not above using a woman. Athos had his own suspicions about one of Richelieu's assassins, but they did not believe any of his games were attempted to the plot against the Queen.

The halls of the Cardinal's were no more haunted than the tunnels beneath the city. People heard voices from the corners because the dark corners held people who didn't want to be seen, for any number of reasons. Too many believed in the lies of ghosts and spirits, breeding fear of a man who craved power.

Problem was there were too many men in this world who craved power, even the ones who had it craved more. That craving was probably the root of every threat against the throne. The fact his wife had been drawn into the middle of it from almost the first day he met her did nothing to reassure him.

He had recommended Constance as a companion to the Queen, and indulged her wishes to spend time with his wife but he had not anticipated that the three would become fast friends. Or that the Queen would come to rely on Constance and Maggie so much.

A knock at his door made him look up as his wife stepped into the office, Treville rose and stepped around the desk. "Hi Maggie."

"Constance came back this morning, I stayed for a while but I wanted to come home." Her arms wrapped around him and she held on, gently he ran a hand down her back; he was glad she was home.

"I've one more meeting tonight and then I will come upstairs." Treville sighed, he would be glad to have her in his arms without the concern of what others plotted against the Queen who enjoyed his wife's company.

"I need to go to the market if you wish to have supper." Maggie finally released him and stepped back.

"Of course. I've some coin, I'll see that one of the men escorts you." He gave her the coin necessary for her purchases and rested a palm against her back as he led her down the stairs.

The men noticed, some smiled at them; he knew they had missed her here as well. Aramis rose and approached. "I'd like a walk if you are going to the market."

"Thank you Aramis." Maggie smiled at him, Treville nodded as his wife strode off with the musketeer who would probably be first to snag some of her baking.

Aramis had a way with women and yet he knew his wife was safe with him. As he headed back up the stairs someone from the guardhouse called to him. Turning he crossed to the guardhouse and took the letter handed to him, frowning at the handwriting on the note.

Pausing in the open gate he surveyed the passing street, the note was from Savoy; the Duchess generally sent word to the Cardinal. It took but a moment to spot the one who had delivered message, he did not make eye contact before slipping away. This was interesting, he did not open the missive until he was closed in his office.

He had read no more than the first few lines when there was a knock on the door. "Come in."

Treville tucked the letter out of sight and rose as a man he had not seen in almost a decade; a man he had learned to fight beside. "Treville, it has been too long."

"DeGette." They embraced and he slapped the man on the back. They had taken different paths, he trained fighting men and DeGette into politics. "Athos said you had news for me."

"First, I hear you have a wife, here in the garrison." The man grinned and Treville shook his head; the man had a fast tongue and used it well to talk his way in and out of many a mess.

Slowly they talked their way around to the business at hand, DeGette travelled beyond France regularly; specifically to Savoy. There wasn't a more loyal man in France, even if he was no longer a soldier but there might not be one with more words either.

He was thankful when DeGette turned down his invitation to supper; he wanted to go home to his wife. DeGette had given him more questions than answers and the Duchess of Savoy added even more. He struggled to think through what he knew at this point, there was something at play that was dark and ugly and old.

Taking the stairs up to his own quarters he breathed in the smell of his wife's cooking; he was glad to have things back to normal. Opening the door he found Maggie bent over the stove, pleased to see she had taken off the dress she wore about the palace and wrapped herself in her apron.

For a moment he just watched, she looked happy as she glanced at him. "Did your meeting go well?"

"Yes, DeGette is an interesting man, I've known him a long time. We served together for a time." He crossed to the table as she brought a cup, he took the cup and caught her by the waist; tugging her into his lap.

They had spent some time together at the palace but the time had not been their own; they were both alert to the Queen's needs and her protection. He had hardly held her and in that bed it had been near impossible.

He had grown used to his wife's habits, she squirmed in her sleep and more than once he had started in the night when he could not feel her frame. Their bed may be narrow but it was comfortable, Treville was used to the sensation of her body against his when he slept; including her feet and elbows.

She squirmed now in his lap and his hands tightened around her, Maggie's palm pressed to his cheek. "Your supper will burn if you do not let me up."

His arms tightened about her waist a moment, her laughter danced about him as she squirmed against his grip; turning to his chest. Her palm shifted from his cheek to his chest as Maggie moved boldly to press against him; pleased he smoothed his hands against her back.

"What about my supper Maggie?" Treville teased his wife, he enjoyed her body but more he enjoyed the fact she knew herself to be free in their home; safe in his arms.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

She watched Jean pace, his mind was at work as he waited for his supper; it was not the first time his meal had been late. But it was his own doing and Maggie thought his mind had been busy often lately as had his hands and other parts of his body.

And Maggie suspected there had been consequences to it, but she had to be sure before she told him he was to be a father. He caught her watching him, quickly she turned back to the stove even as she heard his steps towards her.

"Do you wish to talk of what troubles you?" Maggie asked, feeling his hands smooth around her waist.

"No, it is too dangerous for me to use you to sort out my thoughts." His nimble fingers had began to unfasten her hair, as much as she preferred to tie her hair up but Jean preferred her hair to fall down her back.

Her hair fell in waves tumbled down in her husband's hands as Maggie lifted the pot from the stove. "You will wear a hole in the floor at that pace."

"Politics are not my forte and yet often fill much of my time. The roads twist and turn as everyone attempts to further their own agendas." Jean's fingers combed through her hair as she prepared his meal. "After supper we will practice with the sword."

Maggie nodded, smiling a little as she set the meal on the table. She sat with her husband and ate, he enjoyed teaching her to use the sword though she found the movements difficult to grasp. Jean encouraged her that with repetition she would master it, but Maggie was not so sure.

"How was your afternoon with the Queen?" Jean asked.

"It was nice, but she is concerned that the King will seek more women to serve in the palace; all fathers with eligible daughters wish them in court."

"They want good marriages for their daughters, and connections within the palace. Those of importance often believe when they are alone no one hears; yet servants have eyes and ears to repeat whatever they see." Jean murmured, she knew he asked of her visits with the Queen for two reasons, partially because he cared of her day but also because he sought to protect the Queen from threats within the palace.

While she found it interesting to watch Jean tutor Constance with weapons the woman grasped the tasks with more ease then Maggie did. He finished his meal and when Maggie cleaned up she tied her hair up again before following him into the spare room he used now to train her.

She took the sword that her husband held out to her, the one he wanted her to carry. The weight still felt odd to her hand as she stepped back, Jean tucked a hand behind his back even as Maggie kept hers extended for balance.

"Do not hesitate Maggie." Jean instructed, holding his sword steady for her to slash at his. She used her weight to thrust the weapon forward.

Setting his sword aside her husband stepped beside her, his body molding hers and his hand covering hers on the sword. Jean guided her through the motions he wanted her to use, her husband's hand rested on her hip; tightening that hand as he pulled her against him.

…

He had to give his wife hard news tonight, his plans were secret from all. After DeGette's visit the day before he had finalized the plans to go to Savoy and meet with the Duchess. While there were men he could send, men he had trained and trusted with his life the last time he had sent his men to Savoy he had made a grave misjudgement.

The mission to Savoy a little more than five years had been the last time he would be swayed to the Cardinal's way when he knew a better one; an honorable one. So tonight he took the excuse to hold her tight, to remind her how to defend herself and her Queen.

He enjoyed training his wife to fight, to feel her body collide with his and to see her learn. Maggie might not see the progress she made, she did not understand the time it took to learn the sword. A boy started as early as three or four, Treville could not remember when his training had begun, a boy should become a man with a sword in his hand so accustomed to it that it was only an extension of his body.

Maggie had only begun her training a few months before, shortly after they were married and already she had gained strength. Before she could support it a short time before revealing the strain it took to support the sword.

His hand resting on her hip as she moved, he had no need to hold her as she repeated a movement he had shown her many times before but he enjoyed her soft body in his arms. As she extended her body Treville let his hand travel up, untying her hair and letting it fall.

He loved her long hair falling down her back, enjoyed running his hands through it. As often as Maggie tied it up he took it down and no matter the sighs she breathed she never told him to leave her be.

Finally Treville took the sword from her hand and turned to lean it against the wall. "You are getting better at that Maggie. Soon you will need to carry it; to get used to the weight of it."

"I already carry the blade Jean." She stepped away, allowing space he did not want between their bodies. "I am a woman, I am your wife it is hardly proper for me to carry a sword."

"I don't care much for propriety Maggie; but I do care for your safety." The discussion they had many times before, it was not one he would force upon her but he hoped as she grew comfortable with the weapon it was one he would win by repetition. "My work will take me away for some time."

His hand slid into hers as Maggie turned to back to him, pretty blue eyes full of questions. "When?"

"I will leave in a few days, I'm returning with Amile DeGette to Savoy." He paused a moment, considering how much he should tell her. "The last time I sent men to Savoy I served another man's plan and it cost me. I will come home to you Maggie."

"Does it relate to the people trying to harm the Queen?" Maggie asked, not shying away though he saw sadness in her eyes.

"Yes." Treville knew he was a lucky man, he had a wife he could trust and he appreciated the fact he could talk things out with her. But there was one investigation that he used her in but did not discuss with her; it was too dangerous. "While I am gone I will have the musketeers on high alert, I've told Constance to report everything to them; while I am away impress that upon her. Anything and everything."

"I will Jean, but won't they know?" He took her hand and drew her into their room, pulling her down to sit next to him on the bed before tackling her question.

"No." He was assuming a position and a life he had walked away from, he was a soldier at the core and nothing else. "I will be travelling with DeGette and meeting with members of the merchant's guild."

"Will you be safe?" Maggie asked, her fingers shifted up to rub his cheek. "I know there is risk, but…"

"I will come home Maggie." Folding her into his arms as he answered. "Always."

He was a man who knew how to face the reality that his wife was young, she should not be afraid of being alone; not so soon. He had become accustomed to having a wife, and he knew he could have done far worse; many women would did not understand the way of life he chose.

As Maggie opened her mouth to speak again he shifted, pressing his to hers; it wouldn't be often his job would take him away from her for long stretches. That luxury came with his rank, but too often he was forced to choose his duty above her and Maggie had never flinched.

He had his own opinions as to why that was and he would prefer she had come by it another way but she would know their marriage was important to him. Even as he had to walk out the door, he would not leave without holding her.

…

Her heart was tight as she watched him ride out, Jean hardly looked like himself as he rode out with the merchants travelling to Savoy. Maggie swallowed hard as her hand shifted to her belly where their child grew; she hadn't the nerve to tell him as he left.

Unwilling to give him another thing to worry about as he worked, already away from home and his men he didn't need to be troubled by worrying about her. But it was hard to watch him leave and know it might be weeks before he was home again.

She already had a request from the Queen to join them at the palace, and while she knew that was where Jean would want her to be she felt more comfortable in the garrison. It was home more than any place before had ever been, and as she stepped into the second room, still empty, she imagined it as a nursery.

While Jean was away Athos was in charge of the unit, and the man played politics better than Jean but did not have quite the military experience; he would miss his mentor. All the men would, and they were not excited that she would be staying at the palace in Jean's absence.

With her things tucked in a small pack she stepped up to the door to the office where she generally found her husband. She paused a moment before turning away, there was no reason to bother him; she was fully capable of walking to the palace herself.

Maggie swallowed hard and turned back to her room before heading through the gate, her husband had a duty and as his wife so did she. This business against the Queen had carried on far too long with too many people thinking it finished; her husband would rest when it was.

Cutting through the market she watched the bustle of people as she made her way to the palace. She knew the looks she received from the guards were not friendly, they looked down on her and Maggie knew why. But right now she could care less, her husband had told her often to wear the sword; and to use it.

The members of the palace staff were used to seeing her about and Maggie roamed through the halls looking for Constance and Queen Anne. While she enjoyed spending time with the Queen and Constance this was going to be the longest she was away from home since Jean brought her to the garrison; the longest time she had been away from him.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

He resisted the urge to glare at the hand that found its way onto his arm again, if left unchecked it would shift to his chest; he didn't leave it that long. The woman knew he was married, she just didn't care that he had a wife at home. Treville had little use for this way of doing things, he preferred a straight forward conversation to these games and lies.

The progress was slow, and while he was thankful for Amile DeGette's help he wondered at how the man thrived in this world. It gave him nothing but head aches, he had spent months working in the wrong direction and now had a new problem to sort through.

"What's the harm?" The woman asked, she made her coin off men and he was well aware of that. "A little comfort and a little relief."

"No harm to me, but consider this. I miss my wife." He knew how to play the game as well, not one of his strengths but he had learned; and on this he stood firm. In a low voice he explained the situation. "If I were to bed you I would be thinking of her, I would be missing her body and feeling the differences in yours. I would pay you but I doubt you would satisfy me, I've become accustomed to my wife, I know how to pleasure her and she satisfies me."

"I doubt she had the skills I do." He blocked her move to shift into his lap.

"I can tell you how many men my wife has slept with in her life. How many men have you slept with in this room?"

The woman made a sound of disgust and moved farther down the table, she wouldn't be back and he wasn't disappointed; there were other men for her to make her living off of. Treville wanted to finish his work here and ensure he had the names of all guilty parties before he returned, both in Savoy and France.

The merchant's guilds of cities were interconnected, Paris was a hub of trade and attracted merchants from all over; and connections were made. Most were business but the ones of interest were political.

Tonight these men gathered, they drank and whored but there was a great deal happening beneath the surface and it had taken time to become invisible in this circle. Time away from his wife, his men and his post. The picture was becoming clear but it had not gone the direction he had expected.

However when he returned he needed to have a serious discussion with his wife. It was not going to be pleasant but it was more than likely that he was going to arrest her father; and the man she had been betrothed to for years. The Cardinal would recommend execution and he didn't know that his words would do much to dissuade that; even if he did it would only be imprisonment.

The man wouldn't be alone, this was a deep and long term plan, and it had gone without detection for many years; reaching right into the King's Counsel. He was confident in what he had learned, the King heavily taxed imported goods coming into France which was hard on merchants and without an heir a King was much more easily disposed for more favorable options.

The reality was the men who sat on the King's Counsel all had interests of their own which supported their lavish lifestyles. Those lifestyles would be somewhat more profitable if France was not forced to import so many goods from nations with Navies and pay heavy import taxes. And most of these men blamed the treaty the King had made with Spain when he married his wife.

But it went deeper, the King had been first in line to the throne but other contenders waited in exile; and new ones had been born. As time had gone on the men had opened their minds to other possibilities, they were dangerous ideas.

As a number of the men slipped away and the female presence in the room left with them he eyed those who remained in the room. He knew their names and knew why they stayed, they traveled back and forth across the border, and he needed to learn the names of all the men they communicated with in France.

Shifting down the table he joined the group, they were interested in him. He had stuck close to the things he knew about and so he claimed to deal in weaponry, soldiering had taught him plenty about that trade. Five men, two were French citizens and as soon as they returned home they would be arrested. The others, including the leader of the guild, would prove a more diplomatic matter.

"Have you any dealings with France's military?" The guild leader asked, he had been asked that many times before; he had picked a story and stuck to it. They were becoming more open with their questions and theories the longer he stayed.

"You know I have." It was time to become a bit bolder, slowly but surely he was putting more pieces together. "I understand why we take issue with the French King, I question your reasons."

"You have a French King, we have a French Duchess; the treaty may have just been finalized but it began six years ago." The man glared into his drink, Treville saw the temper in him and the reaction ripple in the others. "It began first in France."

"Then there are more allies at home?" He needed names this time, not numbers or promises; names would allow him to go home.

…

Sitting beside Constance in the court as the King has asked the Queen to keep him company during his duties. She watched as his counselors stood by, the Cardinal a pace or two behind the King as the last matters were dealt with. The King requested Athos to explain the investigation of into allegations of import evasions. It was not going well, the King was unhappy with the answers the musketeer provided.

"Have the culprits been arrested?" The royal demanded.

"At this time the investigation continues as we seek to determine the extent of the goods imported over the course of the past year as we must answer to Spain." Athos explained as the King rose to pace unhappily. "Arrests are pending."

"Arrests are pending? I do not need you to deal in politics. I've my own advisers to process the information you obtain." The King snarled as he whirled back to face the men. "Complete the investigation and pass it to my counsel."

"Yes Majesty." Athos bowed and turned to leave.

"When will Treville be back? I don't need more politicians." The King sighed and dropped back into his seat and turned to the counsel. "Inform the Spanish ambassador."

Maggie wondered the same as she followed the Queen from the room, her husband had been gone for nearly six weeks; she longed for him to come home. He had told her he would be gone for a time but she wondered if he missed her. Maggie knew what it was to be alone but without Jean she felt lonely.

As they turned into another corridor the Queen paused as Athos bowed. "May I borrow Maggie majesty? I've news of our Captain."

"Then you may not borrow Maggie you will tell us." The Queen reached for her hand even as Maggie stepped towards the musketeer; Jean had not been in touch since he left for Savoy weeks before.

"Ah, the Captain has sent word, he enclosed a missive for his wife. He intends to be home tomorrow." Athos extended the parchment, and Maggie reached for it eagerly.

She didn't know what he would write but she wanted it badly, had wanted it for weeks as she missed him. She would need to prepare for his arrival, they would need groceries and the rooms a good scrubbing.

"Majesty, may I have leave to return home and make preparations for Jean's arrival?" Had he missed her, or had he been too busy with his work? He would have work to do when he got home but he would need rest when it was done.

"Of course, we look forward to the new he brings." The Queen nodded and hugged her. "I am sure in the coming months he will want to keep you close but do not stay away too much."

Maggie nodded, she caught Athos' frown as she left with him, and he was sneaking glances as they walked back to the garrison. "Is there something you want to ask me?"

"No." That was a lie, he wanted to ask but he wouldn't.

As they approached the gates the man on duty strode out to meet Athos, speaking to him in hushed tones. Turning into the yard Maggie gasped and rushed forward. "Rylan. What happened?"

Her younger brother was bruised and bloody, he was hardly a man but right now he looked like a scared child as he leaned into her chest. "Father."

Maggie felt her blood run cold, the man was cruel and viscous but he had always loved Rylan; wanted him. Rylan was the heir and Maggie had hoped that would spare him their father's temper; she had been wrong. "Come upstairs. I will see to your cheek."

And she would have the truth. Her brother sat at the table as she washed the nasty cut on his cheek. She should never have left him there when Jean asked if her if there was anything she wanted from home. When Jean had brought her here the man had lost his outlet for anger; in part Rylan's pain was her fault.

She made up a pallet for him in the spare room and Rylan crawled into it numbly. He wasn't used to pain, and he hadn't known he needed to fear their father. Sadly she looked around the room, she hadn't gotten to the market and in the morning her husband would come home to a house guest.

Leaving Rylan to rest until morning Maggie cleaned the kitchen and started a fire; trying to decide what to do about her father. There was a reason their father had turned on Rylan, her brother must have disobeyed him in some way. She wanted to know why.

Maggie slept fitfully and woke early, knocking softly on the door to the room where her brother slept. "Rylan, are you awake?"

"I'm sorry Maggie, I didn't know where to go." His hair a mess and his eyes blurry from sleep.

"What did you do to anger him?" She had done it herself, it didn't take much.

"He wanted me to go with them; they were going to kill a man. Maggie I couldn't." Big brown eyes filled with fear again as he thought of it, Maggie only nodded. "Evelyn said I could come here."

Either their father had made an enemy or one of his business dealings had gone wrong; but why bring Rylan into it? "Rest. Stay in the apartment, I've errands to run this morning."

Her brother nodded and Maggie left, it was early and most of the men were already at their tasks. In the bustle she slipped out into the street but did not take the road towards the market. Maggie was not the girl who was afraid any more, Jean did not believe she needed to be afraid of her husband or of any man; he taught her to stand for her values.

Were he here she didn't doubt he would take care of it, and he would be a lot more effective than she was. But she wouldn't distract his men with this, Maggie wanted to look her father in the eye and tell him exactly what she thought.

Slipping through the back door as she had often done as a child, an easy way to stay invisible, Maggie rested her hand on the hilt of her sword. Her father would still be in a drunken stupor from the night before; it was the best time to speak with him.

She had lived so long in fear of him but as she looked at the man now slumped in his chair she only despised him. Maggie frowned as she eyed the letter open on the desk in front of him, she had learned to read in the studies she shared with Rylan as a child; her blood ran cold again. Jean had said he might one day arrest her father and it seemed he would, how dare a man attack a woman in such a way. And one Maggie cared for.

"What have you done?" She snatched the letter from the desk and stuffed it into her skirts as he woke; his eyes blurred with sleep and wine. "You."

"Yes. You beat Rylan, you beat him for being a decent man. But I shouldn't think how he learned anything of decency from this house." Maggie spat venom and fully expected the fist that hit her face, at one time it would have shocked and terrified her but in this moment it only fueled the fire. Every mark he put on her skin sealed his death warrant, and it wouldn't be her husband's anger that killed him; proof of his crimes was tucked in her skirts.


	18. Chapter 18

Thank you for the reviews. I'm glad you enjoy it, and thank you for taking the time to review. And we will find out what happens to Maggie ...

 **Chapter Eighteen**

The trip had been long and slow, but a chance encounter had found a man who stood by France and had been threatened by the group he had been meeting with. In exchange for his testimony at court Treville had agreed to escort the merchant and his wife safely to Paris; but they could not keep a pace he liked.

Still their frequent stops had given him time to pen a note to his wife and his men; he gave no details but at least they knew he was alive. And to expect him, if he had been alone he would have been back the day before but as they rode into Paris he felt himself relax a little. He had the information he needed, and the evidence to make the arrests; too many men turning against their country.

Leaving the man and his wife safely within their gates he turned for the garrison. He needed to brief his men and assign their tasks, then he wanted a few moments with his wife. He had missed Maggie, had become accustomed to having her near and being able to talk to her.

He saw the man on the gate narrow his eyes as he studied him before turning to another and a runner disappeared into yard; his men knew he was back. Treville knew he looked a little different than usual but given he hadn't known who he would meet he had allowed his beard to grow in and kept the merchant's clothes even though he wanted his uniform.

Athos was on the stairs as he dismounted and slung the pack from the saddle onto his shoulder as he stepped onto the stairs. "Athos, anything I need to know?"

The man began to brief him as the climbed to the office, he listened to the business that had been dealt with in his absence. And then he issued orders for the arrest of the guilty men in France; including de Vaunn and Antoniou; Maggie's father. He wanted to speak to his wife before her father was taken into custody, he had little choice but he wanted her to know there was no question of his involvement.

The yard was busy as his men gathered and prepared to ride out, each team with a different set of orders. By nightfall all guilty parties would be in custody and brought to trial. He crossed and took the stairs up to his own quarters, opening the door he frowned at the boy sitting at his kitchen table. "Who are you?"

"Rylan Antoniou." The boy all but whispered, a nasty bruise on his cheek and fear in his eyes. "Maggie said I could stay."

"Of course." He had never met his wife's younger brother but they looked similar. "Where is Maggie?"

"She left this morning… I think she went to see our father."

His jaw tightened, the last place he wanted her to be right now was anywhere near her father. No matter how cruel the man had been to her she should not have to see him arrested or executed. Taking the stairs down again Treville whistled for his horse. He knew the route to her father's house and that his men would be heading there soon as well. The gate was open when he arrived and he tied his horse and strode straight to the door; slamming his fist against it.

"Is Maggie Treville here?" He demanded of the servant who answered.

"No." But eyes revealed that was only a part of it; his hand tightened around his sword.

"Has my wife been here?" The man's face shifted as he hesitated; not the most discreet servant.

Irritated he turned away, Maggie had been here but she had left. She would likely be on foot, if she had left of her own free will; if she had not her father would not survive his arrest. He took his horse slowly back through the market, watching for her.

He was nearly to the palace walls when he spotted her; and a man shadowing her. Maggie moved quickly and she wasn't watching her surroundings. Dismounting he crossed towards the man as his wife turned.

Maggie had her dagger in hand but he didn't give her a chance to use it. He wrapped an arm around the man's throat and jerked up. His wife stared as the man in his arms went limp and became dead weight.

"Halt." He turned as a pair of red guards approached, without his uniform he knew they didn't recognize him.

"I need to see the King, please." Maggie plead with them, as one man hefted her onto his horse and the other shoved him aside; picking up the man he had knocked out. "Jean, I..."

"Shut up." The guard spoke as the turned to the gate.

He rode with them, knowing it was simpler to address the issue in the presence of men who would know who they were. One asked Maggie's name as she gave it the soldier turned and ordered another to inform the cardinal.

The Cardinal was in the yard as they dismounted, their eyes met and he saw a moment of surprise on the other man's face. "Take them to the King, and unhand the Captain."

The guards jumped and he simply shifted before stepping forward to rest a hand against the small of Maggie's back. Her cheek and neck were badly bruised and bloodied, the wounds were fresh and he needed to know why. As they strode into the court room he saw reaction ripple through the room, Constance and Anne rose and moved towards Maggie.

"Stop." Everyone froze as the King rose and stepped forward, he took Maggie by the chin and turned her face to examine her cheek; he saw his wife tremble. "Who did this to you?"

"My father." Maggie shifted to curtsey but the King did not let go of her.

"And you ask me to intervene? Your husband could not handle it?"

"I only saw my husband a few moments ago, and the guards would not permit us to speak to each other; I was not allowed to ride with him." He saw temper flash in her blue eyes. "But I do not ask you to intervene on that matter."

The time Maggie did pull away, and striding across the room she stopped short in front of one of the hand maids and slapped her as the rest of the room choked a reaction. Treville started forward, unsure of what had gotten into her as the King held a hand for him to freeze.

Maggie grabbed the woman by the hair and dragged her back to where the King stood, her other had digging in her skirts to produce a slightly crumpled piece of paper. "My father plots against the Queen, the letter came from his study, he has paid this woman. She is mentioned by name."

The room became silent as King read the missive Maggie held out; his face betraying what the words said; a motion had guards dragging the woman from the room. Treville watched as his wife's body trembled, waiting his reaction. "He is not alone in this."

"Sire I've already dispatched men to arrest Antoniou, de Vaunn and others among the merchant's guild. They will be in custody and standing trial by morning. I've a man who was approached by these men but remained loyal to France who is willing to provide testimony." Treville spoke, stepping forward to press a hand against her back; Maggie eased back into it. No wonder one of her father's man had trailed her, had anyone but Antiniou's daughter burst into that study that note would have been carefully hidden. But the lack of value he placed on her benefited them today.

"If you need further evidence against de Vaunn, he keeps everything. It will be in a safe in that house, his insurance that no one can turn their back on him he has used such information to black mail many people." Maggie's voice wavered but her chin was held high.

"How do you know this?" The King demanded.

"I lived my entire life in that house trying to be invisible, certain types of men believe women to be beneath them and unable to understand anything unless it was plainly spoken to her. De Vaunn often advised my father to do such things at meals if he complained of rivals."

"My men will be informed, all documents will be seized." Treville promised, as the King continued to eye his wife.

"Good." The King murmured, his tone a little softer, again he took Maggie's chin and turned the mangled cheek to a more visible line. "Now Madame Treville do you understand the consequences of the information you have brought me? Considering I can see the marks he has left on you, and you have brought me proof he conspires against my wife; against my throne. Would you have me show him mercy?"

"I understand the punishment for treason, I would only ask that my brother be allowed to take control of the estate, he had no part of this. Prove that, and please do not punish a child for being born of an evil man." Treville saw Maggie's jaw clench and knew this was not easy for her, but the King continued to stare and Maggie spoke again. "Do you ask me to choose between a cruel man and the Queen, a woman who has been kind to me? My husband has a duty to you and I to him; I will further his responsibilities in any way I can."

"Your loyalty is to be commended." The King commented, the man's gaze met his. "A shame she is your wife, such traits in a woman are rare.

"I will expect a full report come morning. And I will address the charges against Monsieur Antoniou personally." The King returned to his seat, and Treville closed his hand around his wife's.

"I will keep you informed." Treville promised before guiding his wife out of the room.

A motion from the King stopped Constance and the Queen from following them. As soon as they were in the courtyard he stepped behind a pillar and turned his wife against the stone to do his own examination of her. The blood on her face came from a cut along her cheek bone and that made the tension in his chest ease a little.

"I didn't know you were back. She was new but she was so nice and I think …" He stopped Maggie.

"And something struck you as off or those words wouldn't have wrung true so easily." They had been looking for a new spy for some time, the woman had done well at staying under the radar. "You did the right thing Maggie, the woman was close to the Queen she had access and means to harm her; now she doesn't."

And in a few hours all men in France who had intended to prevent the Queen from having a child would die. He had a feeling the Cardinal would recommend a form of slow and painful execution. But he knew in time it would weigh heavily on her, even though what she had done was right. It had taken time for her to come to terms with the man that had posed as a guard and attacked the Queen, while this time she may not have been forced to fight this time bringing proof of guilt was a part of it.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

Her husband had said very little as he took her home and left to go back to work; but she knew he was not pleased about it. His embrace had told her that much, however he had not taken even a moment of rest or to himself since his return.

Jean left her in their quarters and returned to work, Rylan stared at her until she went to him. At fifteen he was already a man in most people's eyes but much of the little boy remained. Without their father Rylan would be in charge of the estate and he was hardly prepared.

Jean was a smart man but there was no way she could hope to ask him to help Rylan, he had his own duties to attend to. And Rylan may not want any help from her once he knew what she had done. In anger the choice had been easy but as her temper cooled she knew it had not been kind.

But what her father had done was evil, what he was a part of disgusted her; especially as she knew the Queen. And Jean's child grew inside of her, her father conspired against allowing the Queen to ever feel that. In that he conspired again France, against everything her husband stood for.

"Rylan you know what our father asked you to do was wrong." She sat across from him and took his hand. "He has done a lot of things that are wrong, really wrong."

"You went to him and he hurt you." Rylan murmured.

"I went to him Rylan but I found something and I gave it to the King; he is being arrested Rylan." She murmured, what he thought mattered to her and it hurt to think he might want nothing to do to her. "Most likely he will be executed."

Rylan stared at her, his eyes wide as he processed her words. Maggie shivered and stood, retreating to her room. The King had given her a chance to plead for him and she hadn't a word in his defense. Maggie curled onto the bed alone, her hand sliding to her belly; Jean's child was strong inside of her. But what kind of mother would she be?

She had turned on her own father, knowing what would happen to him. It was easy for her to believe him to be evil and cruel because she knew him to be, but she had not stopped to think what this would do to Rylan, or how she would feel after. Numbly she stared at the wall as the room became dark, Jean didn't come to bed; Rylan knocked on the door but didn't open it.

As dawn broke Maggie rose and went down to the yard for water; Serge pulled the bucket up for her. And Maggie took a moment to splash cool water on her face. "The boys told me what you did Maggie. It was hard but it was right."

"I, I know I was cruel..." She whispered, the longer she thought about it the more torn she was. On one had she had betrayed her father, but on the other what he had done was wrong in too many ways and she had stood with her husband and what he valued.

"No Maggie, you are not cruel. You have honor, you know right from wrong." The old veteran was one of the first of Jean's mean to trust her and sometimes seemed more a father than her own ever had.

"It feels cruel. Not because I love him or I owe him anything but what he was to me and what he was to Rylan are different things. I know the evil of what he did, but how can I make my brother understand that? How can they say I am loyal?"

"Your brother doesn't need your words; he has your love. And you were loyal, loyal to your husband and to us; we are your family Maggie." Serge wrapped an arm around her and Maggie leaned into the embrace, this man had seen war and violence and yet he was one of the kindest people she had met.

"What if I have a child, and he does wrong?"

"Then he will go against everything you and the Captain will have taught him from his first breath. And it will not be the law he will have to fear but his father; that should be enough to keep any child in line." Serge's words made her smile a little; he was right. A child raised in the garrison would be surrounded by honorable men, he would look up to a good man and he would be loved; the tension in her body eased a little.

But suddenly a hush fell over the garrison as all of the men stopped working, those sitting rose and all bowed. Two mounted guards swung from their horses and a coach man opened a carriage; Queen Anne stepped from the carriage.

"Wait here." She ordered the guards, Maggie curtsied and then reached for Serge who faltered as he bowed; his bad leg causing him to loose balance.

The Queen touched Serge's arm and the man stood, as Maggie's hand lowered the Queen wrapped her in an embrace. "I have so much to tell you, and to thank you for."

"Majesty, I could have come to you." Maggie murmured, the Queen had not come to the garrison since her wedding night and while they had spent a great deal of time together in the palace it was strange to see her here.

"I wanted to come to you, and it is my choice. The Captain is still at the palace and the King will wish to see you this afternoon so after we speak you will accompany me back." The Queen did not let her go, and Maggie tried not to squirm; she could not more argue with Queen Anne than she could the King when he had examined her face. "May we speak in private?"

"Yes." Maggie led the way up to their quarters, wishing she had worked last night rather than pity herself; she had nothing to offer the woman. "Would you like something to drink? I haven't done any baking yet this morning. I didn't make it to the market."

"A glass of wine." The Queen surveyed the rooms, her gaze landed on Rylan who sat at the table staring at her.

"Rylan remember your manors." Maggie scolded and Rylan turned to stare at her a moment before he rose and bowed. "Go down and see Serge, he will get you something to eat."

"Your brother, he is who you spoke of yesterday?" The Queen took a chair at the table, looking completely out of place in her home, Maggie set the cup in front of her and took a seat.

"Yes." She smiled a little as she watched him go. "Is it done?"

"Most of it." The Queen answered, she looked down at her cup for a moment. "They gave testimony, ten men and two members of the King's counsel. The Cardinal recommended execution. Your father and de Vaunn are among them."

"I know." She whispered.

"Thank you for what you did but I must apologize for betraying your confidence." The woman folded Maggie's hands into your own. "I am going to have a child too. I told the King last night, I told him you and Treville would have your child before us and I've asked you to be a wet nurse for ours."

"Of course." But she hadn't even told Jean that he was to be a father yet. "That is wonderful news."

"The King is pleased, and he is glad that we have true allies; I am glad that you are a true friend." The woman's hands tightened around hers. "He is glad to have put this to rest."

"I am glad." Maggie murmured, now she had to worry that her husband would hear from another what should come from her. "And I am happy for you. I pray it will be a boy."

…

She had seen Maggie tremble before the King yesterday but this morning she seemed in shock. Anne had wondered of that, Maggie was a kind and gentle woman the hard temper of yesterday had been fueled by the offence she felt. And now the poor thing knew she had made the right call decision but the consequences of it seemed to weigh heavily on her.

The King saw it all as a service he was owed, and he was pleased that the duty had been done but he knew something of having family members betray him, even if he didn't think of it now. Anne thought in his excitement of their child she might have convinced him to see the price paid by others. That true loyalty and devotion were more that service; such commitment was born of friendship and love.

Anne knew the King was impressed by what Maggie had done and that she had stood before him to defend a friend, that she had the sight to bring evidence and accuse the guilty. Twice Maggie had defended her life in the past six months, Anne knew Treville had trained his wife to fight but more he had been kind to her and the woman had grown from the skittish thing they had first met at the court.

"The King wants to see you this morning Maggie; come to court with me. The sooner we go the sooner it will be over." She knew that couldn't be much comfort to Maggie, it would likely mean more to her when Treville was finished with his duties.

When they entered the court room Anne stayed at Maggie's side and Constance appeared by her other side. The King might want her to sit by him but she would stay by her friend today, the Cardinal stood a few paces from the King's side and she saw Maggie's eyes scan the room; looking for her own husband.

Anne knew the punishment the Cardinal had recommended the King order for the two men not executed this morning, Maggie was here because her husband's adviser encouraged it. The Cardinal stepped forward, to begin his game Anne thought darkly. "Madame Treville, the King allowed you to make a request of him, and you asked us for the law. Rylan Antoniou will inherit what your father leaves behind. We have found an aide for him, an honorable man to teach him to manage the vineyards, and the estate."

"Thank you." Maggie whispered, Anne wished she knew the man was not finished.

"Your service in this matter is to be rewarded. I would like to help you find a suitable request." The Cardinal continued forward, stopping only a few feet from where they stood.

Anne felt Maggie shift beside her and she held tightly to her friend, her husband kept her sheltered from the games of politics. While Anne had watched many take place and knew how the Cardinal operated. The Captain worked in a different way and the King appreciated it, and had missed his advice while he was away; even if he didn't often heed it.

"Really, Cardinal must this be done right now?" Anne demanded.

"Anne it must." Her husband spoke, and she inclined her head as Maggie took a nervous step back. "When your King grants you a request Madame you do not ask for what one is legally entitled to."

So the Cardinal had pricked her husband's pride Anne thought, rather than let Maggie ask for what she thought right they ordered her to ask something that she didn't want. Maggie only stared as Anne rubbed a hand up her arm to encourage her; they would not give her peace until it was done.

"Then order my dowry paid to Jean, his is my husband; not de Vaunn." Maggie rushed over the words as the King stepped closer to them.

"A dowry, now that can be arranged. The dowry was paid in full to de Vaunn some time ago is that correct?" The Cardinal asked, circling back to the King to whisper something softly. "Remind me again how long have you been married to the Captain?"

"Seven months." Anne eyed the man as Maggie answered, unsure what he was advising her husband of, but the King nodded eagerly.

Then the Cardinal motioned to the guards, de Vuann and Antiniou were dragged forward bound by chains. Maggie shook slightly next to her as the men hurled vile insults towards her. Anne and Constance held the Maggie between them; disgusted Anne spoke. "Silence!"

"Obey your Queen." Her husband added weight to her instruction and both men stopped speaking. "Your sentence has been given, now punishment may be meted out; but first there are a few details to see to."

The King took his seat as the Cardinal paced before the men. He enjoyed this, Anne thought while Maggie's face had lost all color. Anne glared at both men, they wanted to make a spectacle believing the sight would somehow assure them this was finished.

"First the matter of your daughter's dowry. Now a daughter loyal to France must have an appropriate price." The Cardinal paced before the two men on their knees. "Given Madame Treville is most concerned with what her brother will have to live on and the dowry has already been paid to you. Yet de Vaunn, you have no heir for your estate it is forfeit to the state upon your death; and you received dowry for this woman."

The Cardinal stood in front of the man who Maggie had been promised to, who Anne knew had been cruel. "You will pay Captain Jean Treville the rightful dowry of ten thousand lever, with interest as it should have been returned to Antoniou upon dissolution of the betrothal."

"The dowry was never so high." De Vaunn protested.

"I think you misunderstand, it is nothing to you; the estate is forfeit to the King's treasury. We are simply squaring your debts." The Cardinal did not flinch, motioning to a guard who disappeared from the room. "You will die in the manor you would have killed Magdalene Treville or the Captain. One hundred lashes each. The whip is to be treated with the poison as it was before; no treatment will be rendered."

Maggie shook and Anne eased her into Constance's arms taking a step forward she addressed her husband. "Sire I ask you give us leave, we've no desire to witness this; I pray it may upset the child within me."

"Of course." Her husband's eyes warmed and he approached, taking her hands in his; pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "See that my son remains safe within you for the months to come."

Anne nodded, and turned back to Constance, together they led Maggie from the room. She was holding her own but the events of the morning had taken there toll; and Maggie was farther along that she was.

"I beg your pardon Majesty but I wish to return home." Maggie's eyes were wet and her face pale.

"If that is what you wish." Anne wanted to keep her close, to offer her some comfort. "You could stay here until the Captain is done his work."

"Majesty please, I must go home. Jean worked through the night, when he comes home he will be tired; I would like to have a meal for him." And in working Anne thought Maggie would busy her hands to quit her mind.

…

She raked the coals and wrapped the cloth around her hand to re position the grill plate. The dough rested, already shaped into neat little rolls in the fire's warmth. Maggie stepped back and surveyed the work she had done in the past few hours; now it felt like home again. She tried to think of little else, Rylan had made friends with some of the cadets and stayed in the yard.

Maggie had told him what had happened to their father and what his part would be. He had only nodded and then said he would be glad to go out to the vineyards, she wasn't sure if he would be glad to leave her or the past. Either way it was done, Maggie could do nothing to change her part in it, but she couldn't say she was truly sorry either. The Queen was with child and she was safe.

Jean's child grew strong in beneath her heart, she knew what the woman was feeling; it must be many times strong having waited so long. That thought sobered her, her actions had been careless, she had hardly thought of her babe in all that happened in the past day; the risk she had put it in.

The door opened and shut, Maggie turned to see Jean hanging his hat by the door. Her husband hardly looked himself, at some point he had found his uniform but his beard was full and his hair shaggier than she had ever seen it. He looked tired, but Maggie knew he had to be bordering on exhaustion.

"Here." She poured a cup of wine and offered it to him, he seemed stiff as he pulled off his jacket and when he took the cup she took his jacket and hung it up.

"Thank you." Jean took a drink and then set it aside, unstrapping his weapons and leaning them against the wall. His hand scrubbed over his face, Maggie reached out to touch his jaw. "It has been a long day."

She only nodded, it had felt the same for her, but he had worked through the night and she knew his tasks would have been grim. Unsure of what to do for him Maggie watched as crossed to the water basin and splashed his face; if he intended to wash she would heat the water. But then he turned and Maggie found herself folded into his arms; her cheek pressed to his chest. "I'm sorry for all that has happened Maggie. I'm sorry that you had to make such choices and that I wasn't here with you."

Maggie wrapped her arms around him and held on, she could hear his heart beating, and his scent surrounded her; she held him as tight as she could. Her husband's hand slid down her back and Maggie found herself hoisted up as he moved to sit at the table; tucking her into his lap.

"Is it over?" Maggie asked, hoping he would tell her it was.

"Yes. It is done, the Cardinal will deal with what is left." And as he caught her chin Maggie looked into his blue eyes. "I learned a few things of interest today. The Queen is pregnant and I'm to have a dowry for you after all; a nobleman's reward."

"Yes." And in her mind he deserved every coin. "But she isn't alone."

She watched the question form in his eyes, and taking his hand she brought it down her belly. The child had only begun to change her body, he would need far more space before he was ready to come into the world.

"We're to have a babe?" His voice was hushed and Maggie only nodded, watching as his face broke in a smile; his palm splayed over her. "Have you felt him move yet?"

"No, but soon. I think he will be here by summer's end." His face said it all and Maggie smiled herself; he was pleased about this.

"I've been gone well over a month and I've hardly touched you since I've been home." Jean had her corset open and slid his hand under her skirts, his palm pressed warm against her skin now, travelling from hip to hip as he examined the swell their baby had made. "Should you be wearing your corset? It seems so tight."

"It would hardly be proper not to." Maggie laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek; he was going to be a wonderful father.

"I have no idea how to care for a pregnant wife." His hands spanning her midriff as best he could. "But I know this, you'll not be helping in any more of my investigations for a time."

…

He had missed her in so many ways, and to hold her in his arms felt wonderful. That she was with child was both exciting and terrifying, especially considering all she had been through in the past few days. Maggie was certainly tougher than she looked, many women would have wept and hid but Maggie had faced a threat head on; his wife might be gentle but she had a stubborn streak.

Treville had little energy left after wrapping the investigation but he was not about to give up an evening with her after he had spent so many missing her. And evidently he had not been alone in that, he heard more than one pair of boots outside the door as she prepared their dinner.

As Maggie tended a pot bubbling above the fire he found some clean cloth, his razor and a pat of soap; it was past time he cleaned up. She was watching he knew, and when he nicked his cheek; she came to him.

With a sigh he relinquished the blade, Maggie didn't hesitate to make herself comfortable in his lap, setting the razor aside she put her hands in the basin and lathered the soap between her palms and then onto his face. "Careful, I don't intend to look like a boy."

"I know how you like it." She murmured, her pretty eyes entertained by his concern. A lot of damage could be done with a straight razor.

She tossed the cloth about his neck and began at his cheek bone, careful clean strokes. Her fingers trailed after the blade, soft and light against his bare skin. Treville only closed his eyes, resting his hands on her hips. Her fingers were careful and neat with the blade, his own fumble the only mark made as she turned her attention to his hair next, he stroked her back.

"Watch your hands." She warned, and obediently he brought them back to her hips. He had been enjoying the feel of her, finding the ways their child already changed her slim form; still adjusting to the idea he was to be a father.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

In his absence the men had attended to several other matters, and it was past time to fill out the reports and inform the King. Treville did not enjoy paperwork, but to get behind was much worse. He spent the morning listening to Athos' account of the time and straightening out the facts, and status of each matter.

The man had done a good job, and was certainly better with words than Treville, but she seemed happy to hand the duty back to him. Command came with a price, there was rank and respect but also paperwork, politics and personnel to manage; and that cut down on the adventures of soldiering.

Treville reviewed the information carefully, with the threat to the King and his line past it was time to handle other matters. Athos had dispatched several teams to make arrests, and transfer prisoners, yesterday afternoon Treville had sent men to Savoy to carry a message to the Duke, imploring him to arrest the men conspiring against France in his principality. Jean took account of where all of his men were, and when each team was expected to return.

There was a knock on the door and he called for the person to enter; leaning back in his chair to roll the kinks from his shoulders. Rylan entered hesitantly, the young man was nearly as skittish as Maggie had been when he first brought her home. He'd seen the boy jump nearly five feet when he'd stopped a cadet slinking home this morning still stupid from drink; it was a good thing Rylan had no interest in soldiering. He'd never survive a dressing down, let alone the orders a commanding officer often had to give.

Yesterday he had taken his brother in law to settle his father's estate with the court and meet the aide recommended for him. A respectable man with experience operating vineyards who would hopefully teach Rylan to survive in the business. Rylan may have been his father's son but Treville knew that had not led to the lessons the boy should have had long before now. Rylan was a thin and pale young man, Maggie had said he had been sickly as a child and it had taken its toll; Treville wondered if that had earned the boy his father's fist the way his sister had taken it for any slight.

"Well, is there something you need Rylan?" He broke the silence as the young man hovered just inside the door.

"I, yes…" Rylan stuttered, a sign of nerves, he remembered Maggie's warning to be gentle with him; apparently he intimidated him. Patiently he waited, he had cadets almost the same age who were already strong soldiers, and he had to remind himself that was no fault of the boy; the man to be blamed for that was now dead. "I wanted to thank you for allowing me to stay with you and Maggie."

"You're family." The boy was only beginning to learn the meaning of that word.

"I've decided to take Cardinal Richelieu's advice and forfeit the property in Paris to offset my father's debt. I'll be moving out to the house on the estate, it is only a half day's ride from here; I hope you will allow Maggie to visit me; after the baby is born of course." Rylan rushed, nearly tripping over his request.

"We will come to see you, perhaps before the babe comes. Maggie will want to know you are safe." And the journey was not quite as far as the young man thought.

The door cracked open and one of his men stuck his head through, a quick gesture passed the message clearly; Rylan looked between them in confusion. Treville only sighed, the last of those plotting against the Queen were dead. He had some idea of what de Vaunn and Antoniou had felt before death.

Only he had been lucky, his body carefully tended whether he liked it or not, under his wife's diligent care his pain had broke. And his body recovered until all that was left was the scars where the whip had broke the skin.

"Does he need you?" Rylan asked as the door shut.

"de Vaunn has died." No sense lying to him. Last night word had come that Antoniou had passed; the infection had killed him quickly.

Rylan had cried and Maggie retreated to their room silently, late that night Treville had woke to her fingers lightly tracing the marks on his back; trying to sort out her feelings.

"They are all dead then." Rylan murmured, not used to death as soldiers were. And however the man had treated him he had still lost his father.

They young man sat quietly for a long moment before looking up to meet Treville's eyes. "Good. I'm leaving this afternoon, thank you for allowing me to stay and for caring for Maggie; she is happy here."

"A fresh start will do you good." It would give him a chance to become his own man and make a life of his choosing. "Maggie is a good woman, she means a lot to me."

It hadn't taken him long to come to love Maggie, and it had just taken being treated with a little decency for her to come into her own; and find a strength deep inside. He hoped her brother would find the same now that he was out of that house.

He stayed to see Rylan off but didn't linger, heading to the palace to handle business there. The King was in a good mood, pleased with the results of the investigation and the money the treasury had confiscated from several of the men who had died with out heirs or legacies. And announcing that he was soon to be a father as well.

Detailing the final pieces of the investigation still on going, the team he had sent to Savoy with a missive had not yet returned. Continuing to other business that the King needed to be appraised of Treville shifted, the Cardinal was giving him especially dirty looks today. They didn't see eye to eye on much of anything beyond protecting the King, and they went about it in very different ways.

"Now, on to a matter of business I wish to discuss." The King rose from his seat. "Two seats on my counsel have opened up. I would have you fill one of them."

"Sire, you have my opinion whenever you ask for it, and sometimes when you don't. I've a garrison to run." Treville answered quickly, his heart thumped a little; the last thing he wanted to do was sit on the King's Counsel and spend his life dealing in politics.

"I've other men who can run that garrison. I haven't others who will give me the practical counsel you will; or who have the military experience you do." The King dismissed his protest and Treville swallowed hard.

"I understand soldiering Sire, I've made my life in the military. I've no use for or skill with politics." If he spent his days debating politics he would go soft and weak like too many men of nobility; it was not a way he wanted to live.

"Many of my counselors have other careers Treville, but the counsel meets they make time." The King stopped only a pace or two in front of him. "I respect what you've done with the unit Captain. I'm not asking you to give it up."

He was silent, his eyes never leaving those of the younger man used to getting his own way no matter the cost. He was being given no option; it was as much an order any other he had been given. "It would be an honor Sire."

"Good. That settles it." Pleased the King turned away and gestured to the Cardinal to fall in step as he left the room.

Alone Treville let out his breath, to many it would be an honor; a position of great influence. He wanted no part of it, and yet he could not go against it; he would have to manage not only the garrison but also come when the King held counsel meetings.

…

Rylan had said very little to her in the past few days but as he prepared to leave he turned back and held her tight. Jean had promised they would visit, and that it wasn't so far but she knew she wouldn't see him very often; but he would be safe.

"You did the right thing Maggie," His voice was soft in her ear before he let her go.

"I'll miss you Rylan." Maggie murmured. Then let him go and stepped back to her husband's side; slipping her hand into Jean's.

In many ways this was best, her life had become much better when Jean took her away from that place; Rylan deserved the same chance. He had to learn to live honorably, to make an honest way in this world and learn a trade. Knowing that didn't make it much easier to watch him ride away.

Jean left for the palace soon after and Maggie walked to the market with Serge. The men were glad to have their captain back, and she could sympathize; she was glad to be back home as well.

On his return Jean had sent many off on missions, and she missed cooking for them; tonight they would all eat together. The men gave Serge a hard time about his cooking, but they knew he did his best and appreciated the work the veteran did around the garrison. Maggie enjoyed helping him with the cooking, and after finding the ingredients they needed they settled into the garrison kitchen.

She worked the rest of the afternoon with Serge, and found herself laughing. The veteran teased her, and some of the men stopped by, looking for something before the meal; she shooed them away.

This was her home, and these people had surrounded her as family. They didn't judge what she had done, their duty would have bound them to do the same. The thought she had a part in ending lives had been hard for her but by marriage she was bound to that same duty to the King and she didn't regret that.

When the food was ready musketeers and cadets who remained in the garrison materialized, and for a time Maggie was busy. But Jean wasn't around, he didn't come and get a plate and she didn't see him sitting with any of the men.

Taking a plate to the man on the gate she checked if he had come home yet. He had, and apparently had snuck off somewhere. First she checked the office and their rooms, but he wasn't in either place. Trying to ignore the concern beginning to clutch at her. Jean stood by his horse, using a handful of straw to curry it.

"Come eat before they scarf it all down." She reached for his arm, he was tense and trying to focus on what he was doing; but it was only because something was bothering him.

"Save me a plate Maggie." He bent down to brush the animal's legs, he tended the animal with care and practice; but it was one of many things she knew he did to think.

"Jean please tell me what is wrong." He turned and Maggie waited.

"The King has placed me on his counsel."

"Perhaps he is a smart man." Maggie murmured, already knowing he wouldn't see it that way. "The King missed your counsel when you were away. He needs men to tell him the truth, to voice reason, not politics and to fight for France with words as well as swords."

"I've never wanted to be that man. I am content Maggie, more than I've ever been. I know soldiering, I understand it." Jean sighed, blue eyes looked her straight on as he spoke frankly. "The King gave me an order as much as an offer. Maggie I've got to learn politics and I'll be fighting with those counselors at every turn."

"But then you will leave those meetings and you will come home to your men, to me and to your baby." Taking his hand in hers and holding it tight, he would be good at this. He was a soldier with a head for business, and he was a decent man. "If taking it as an order comforts you Jean take it that way. As a soldier doing your duty to your King, do it and do it well. Not just for the King but for the men who fight on your orders, for the men and women of this country."

His arms folded around her and Maggie smiled as he pulled her tight to his chest, in less than a year of marriage she had learned to comfort him and to push him. She understood what drove Jean Treville and she loved him for it. For that she would stand by him, and support him in any way she could; through whatever life and the King threw at them.

 **End**

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 **Please look for the next story. A Soldier of Diplomacy.**


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